


The Paths Not Taken

by darkdisrepair



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: AUs, One-Shots, general trash probably, i never thought i'd be here, takes requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkdisrepair/pseuds/darkdisrepair
Summary: A collection of one-shots, based on various prompt lists. Mostly Tessa/Scott centric.Explores the paths not taken by our favorite duo, and what could have been... like U.S. History class, coffee shop dates, bake-offs... the possibilities are endless.





	1. The Deadline

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt lists:  
> http://toglidethroughlife.tumblr.com/post/168716197335/angstfluff-prompt-list  
> https://imagine-the-fluff.tumblr.com/post/153105729638/prompt-list  
> http://sentence-fragments.tumblr.com/post/128655641230/101-fluffy-prompts
> 
> Or submit your own :) Can also be AUs.

Whoever this guy was, no matter who he was, Tessa Virtue officially hated him.

Only two weeks into her new living arrangement and she already wanted to leave. At first, she'd thought that her new apartment in Montreal was a dream come true. It had a modern kitchen, wooden floors, and a lovely view.

She even had her dream job- as a reporter, writing news articles. She'd dreamed of a life like this since she was a kid, writing for the newspaper club at school. 

But her dream  _definitely_ hadn't included listening to music constantly pumping through the wall connecting Tessa's bedroom to her neighbors. No matter what time of day, her next-door neighbor seemed to enjoy disrupting her life more than actually doing anything else. She'd never seen them, not even once, outside of their apartment. When she left for work, they were playing music. When she came back, they were still playing  _the same music._

It was crazy, if you asked her. She couldn't imagine listening to the same songs everyday non-stop. 

She usually wasn't one to judge people based on their taste of music- but  _Moulin Rouge_ 24/7 was  _not_ what she wanted in her life. If she had to hear another song from that god-forsaken soundtrack, she was going to burst through her neighbor's door and personally smash their speakers.

 _You're only two weeks in,_ she reminded herself, as she sat with her empty notebook open on the table. But, just as she thought this, the familiar beats began to reverberate through the walls again. 

"Does this guy ever leave his apartment?" Tessa wondered out loud to herself. She tried to bury herself in her writing. She had a newspaper article due to the editors in three hours, and an important one, at that. 

It wasn't like she could just waltz up to the editor-in-charge and tell him that a key article about the 2018 Canadian Olympic team wasn't going to get done because she couldn't handle listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. 

She refused to be  _that_ incompetent. 

An hour later, Tessa breathed a sigh of relief as the tell-tale signs of the end of the album came. It was bad that she knew this- but she'd heard it plenty enough times to now be able to predict when the last song was about to end.

Thank. God.

For thirty seconds, her world was blissfully quiet. Tessa could finally stop wasting valuable brain power on processing the faint sounds of  _Come What May_ or whatever goddamn song that her neighbor was playing.

But then- 

The familiar strains of  _Nature Boy,_ the first song on the album, began again.

"ARE. YOU. KIDDING?!" Tessa exclaimed, slamming her pen down in frustration. She stormed to the door of her apartment, yanked on her slippers, wrenched the door open, and pounded on the door of Apartment 3B.

A pause. She could hear footsteps coming to the door. 

Before she could second-guess herself and turn around, the door swung open, to reveal a tall man with floppy, dark hair, covered in sweat. 

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking confused as he took in the sight of the petite, bunny-slipper wearing woman in front of him. 

"Yes, in fact," Tessa snapped. "You can stop blaring that idiotic  _Moulin Rouge_ soundtrack at all hours of the day. It's eleven o'clock at night! I have a freakin' deadline in an hour, and I can't focus when I'm hearing Roxanne for the ten billionth time in two weeks!"

The man blinked. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that it was so loud."

"You didn't realize?!" Tessa exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "It literally shakes the glasses on my table. All. The. Time. Watch the movie once in a while, or listen to something else for once in your life! Or just remember that, oh, wait, you have NEIGHBORS."

"I'm preparing for a competition, and it helps me relax," the man apologized. "I didn't realize it was so loud. I'll keep it lower, and try not to bother you." 

"Good," Tessa nodded, pleased with the results. 

The man turned to close the door, then paused. "What's your deadline for?"

Tessa froze, already two steps away from the safety and comfort of her own apartment. "What?" 

"Your deadline. You said you were working on something, and I was just wondering what it was. Since I've been keeping you from it."

"It's for my newspaper. It's about the Canadian Olympic team," Tessa replied, a little confused as to why this man was showing such an interest in her job, while just minutes ago he was the only person standing in the way of her success. "It's not going well, thanks to you. And I only have two hours left, so. I'm going to go back to work. Unlike some people, I have to make money somehow."

The man raised his eyebrows. "I can help you."

Tessa snorted. "Yeah, like you've been  _such_ a help this past hour."

"No, really. I'm going to be on the Olympic team. Figure skating," he said. That gave Tessa pause.

"You're messing with me."

"No, really." He stepped out of his apartment and stuck out his hand. "Scott Moir. I'd be happy to help with your article. Since I've been messing it up for the past few days anyway, I probably owe you some help."

Tessa almost said 'no'. But then she looked at her watch. Only an hour and a half left until her draft had to be sent in. "I'm going to Google you and make sure you're not actually a murderer," Tessa warned him as she opened the door to her apartment. "But if you're telling the truth, you'd better give me some good stuff. You  _definitely_ owe me."

Even so, she let him follow her into her apartment. 

"What do you want to know?"

 

 


	2. Coffee Shop Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the classic coffee-shop AU... probably. title from a broadway musical, because why not?

Scott stepped inside the tiny coffee shop, scuffing his boots on the welcome mat just inside the door. He brushed snow off his shoulders and glanced around the dimly lit store. 

With dark paneling, blackboard menus, house plants, and minimalist lighting, the coffee shop was classic hipster. Scott usually disliked hipster coffee shops, just as much as he hated trends. But something about this coffee shop was different. Ever since he'd moved to Montreal, this was the only store that he'd actually liked. Unlike most trendy coffee places, it actually felt like the owners cared about coffee, not just about appealing to the millennial age group.

Friends (Chiddy, mostly) tried to convince him to reveal the secret of the amazing coffee he brought to hockey practice. Scott refused- he tried as hard as possible to keep this store to himself. He had enough teasing at the rink and at the apartment he shared with Andrew. He wanted to keep one space to himself, at least. 

Until now. 

He didn't know the girl he was meeting here well at all. A mutual friend set them up.

Scott definitely had his doubts about this girl. If Andrew approved of her, was she really going to be girlfriend material? Scott highly doubted it. His friend was known for questionable decisions. He was an ice dancer, after all. Scott never had good experiences with ice dancers. Andrew and his partner, Kaitlyn, were some of the few exceptions.

He checked his phone. The girl had ten minutes to show up. Scott picked a table near the window, looking out at the street. The snow had turned from blizzard-like to light flurries. That was a relief. He would hate to be the reason that someone got hurt.

That was another reason why Scott kept off the dating scene. Hockey, for one, ate up most of his schedule. And judging by how much his mother hated to watch him skate, he guessed a girlfriend wouldn't appreciate the violent conditions, either.

"Can I take your order?"

The voice jolted Scott out of his reverie. "Um, coffee, black, please."

"Sure," the girl said, jotting something down on her little notepad. "It'll be out in a few minutes."

"Thanks."

Scott checked his phone again. The girl should have been here by now. Had something happened? 

He shook his head. Not everyone was punctual. He was just used to Kaitlyn's almost annoying habit of showing up ten minutes early to everything. She was the reason why Andrew actually hung out with Scott more than once a year. She had a knack for organizing events and get-togethers.

 _Wait._ Suddenly Scott realized- it was probably not Andrew who had set this up. It was probably Kaitlyn. Knowing her, she probably thought that Scott needed excitement in his life.

Well, this certainly was exciting. Not. Getting stood up at a coffee shop was not Scott's idea of fun.

Another glance at his phone- the girl was ten minutes late. Kaitlyn hadn't even given Scott her phone number, or her name- he had no way of calling or texting her. He couldn't even tell her that he was leaving. That meant, if she showed up and he wasn't there,  _he'd_ look like the jerk.

The door opened and Scott glanced up, almost reluctantly.

A dark-haired girl walked in, white scarf wrapped around her neck, a Canada beanie on her head. She glanced around the cafe, her eyes falling on Scott. She took another look around the shop before coming over, her steps light.

"You're Scott, right?" she asked.

Scott shrugged. "Yeah."

"I'm Tessa," she said, sticking out her hand. 

"Great," Scott grunted.

"Can I sit?"

"Since you're here, I suppose," Scott said, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes. Tessa sat on the stool across from him.

"So, Kaitlyn said that you're a hockey player. What team do you play for?" Tessa asked, hands clasped on the table in front of her. 

Scott snorted. He doubted that this tiny girl would even know the hockey teams in Montreal. She was just as airheaded as he'd thought. Kaitlyn's taste was worse than he thought it would be. "The Montreal Canadiens."

"Really? I've seen a couple games. What's your last name?"

"Can I take your order?" the waitress girl asked, interrupting their conversation to ask Tessa. 

"Um, I'll take an almond milk cappuccino," Tessa told the girl. "Thank you so much."

She turned to Scott. "You were about to tell me your last name."

 _Jeez, this girl was pushy._ "Moir. My last name's Moir."

Tessa sat back and nodded appreciatively. "Wow, I'm impressed. You're quite the talented hockey player, Mr. Moir. Your skating skills are quite beautiful."

"I doubt that you'd know anything about hockey, or skating skills, for that matter. If you did, you wouldn't call mine beautiful," Scott snorted, unable to keep the venom out of his voice. "You don't know anything about what skating is. You probably don't even know how to tie a skate properly. You couldn't tell a five year old's skating from a professional hockey player."

He could tell he'd offended her.

"You probably just Googled me before you came. That's why you were ten minutes late, wasn't it? Trying to find common ground, or something like that? Well, you can drop the act. Stop pretending that you know anything about it," he continued. "I can see right through you. Why don't you just go home, and you can tell Kaitlyn that you did what she wanted you to."

Tessa straightened, eyes flashing. "You don't know anything about me," she snapped, voice cold. "I  _can_ tell the difference between professional skaters and  _children._ Your edges are a thousand times better than half of the rest of your  _hockey_ buddies. Your footwork is perfection. You could do a hundred perfect Mohawks and Choctaws before your friends could even do one."

Scott opened his mouth, but Tessa talked right over him.

"I know about skating, Scott Moir. I've laced up skates more times than you, I've traveled farther than you. I've been spun around on someone's  _shoulders_ on the ice. I've done more styles of dance on the ice that your small little hockey brain could come up with."

"I've been to the  _Olympics._  Guess what it was for? Ice skating,"she continued, standing up. "So don't tell me what I can and can't talk about. For the record, I wasn't even supposed to come here. Piper was, but guess what? She ditched you. And I came because I didn't want you to get stood up. But I wish I hadn't.""

She picked up her coat, stuffed her arms into the sleeves, and tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table. "Keep the change, for your  _troubles."_

She pushed open the door and turned down the street.

Scott stared after her, mouth open.

Then, he picked up his coat and bolted out the door.

"Tessa!" he called. Tessa only walked faster, as the snow picked up pace and the white flakes fell faster to the ground. "Tessa,  _wait!_ Tessa, please!"

She held up a hand as she determinedly kept going. "Leave me alone."

"Tessa!" 

"Go away!"

"Tessa, I'm sorry."

She whirled around, arms crossed. "Oh, so now you're sorry."

Scott held up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. I misjudged. I was an idiot. I shouldn't have stereotyped like that. I was just... I was being dumb. It wasn't fair, I was too judgmental. And I'm sorry."

Tessa tilted her head to the side. 

"If I could go back, I would. Really," Scott said, eyes on the ground. "Again. I'm sorry. Goodnight." He turned away and started walking, back in the direction of his apartment. 

"Wait," Tessa said, with a sigh. "Scott, wait."

Scott tried to keep the hopeful look off his face as he faced Tessa again.

"I never did get to drink that cappuccino."

He broke into a wide grin, and she couldn't help but laugh a little as he offered her his arm. "You get one more chance. Don't mess this up."

"I won't, I promise," Scott told her emphatically. 

 

 


	3. Necessary Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Scott have a an argument with drastic consequences.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME, TESSA?! YOU ARE SO ANNOYING!" Scott fumed.

"I'm not the annoying one!" Tessa retorted. "You're the annoying one!"

"There's no way. Nothing can be as annoying as what you've just done! How am I supposed to play 'zealous' anymore?" Scott complained, slumping back into the couch. "You've blocked it off! Now I can't even use that double word square!"

"That's your loss, and my gain," Tessa replied smugly. "Let's see, that's forty-two points for me. 128 to 62."

"I hate Words with Friends so much. It should be more like, Words with Enemies. I'm not going to be able to be your friend after this," Scott said, pouting. "Remind me again why we're playing this?"

"Competition is delayed, remember? We have, like, ten dances before we go. What else are we supposed to be doing?"

"I don't know, rehearsing for the short? Practicing? Staying warm? Not sitting here, on our phones?"

Tessa rolled her eyes. "You're such a bore. Besides, I've decided. My new philosophy is that if you don't know it by now, we're not going to know it anyway. Might as well not even worry about it. We have ten dances to go, anyway, and they haven't even resumed."

"Do we even know why competition is paused? This is going to add  _hours_ onto my day. I want to go to bed and drink hot chocolate."

"Something about a Zamboni malfunction. Water everywhere. You know the drill," Tessa said. "It's still your turn. Don't even try to get away with it, Scott Moir. I have a great next move planned. Hurry up."

Scott rolled his eyes. "I'm getting there. Like you said, we have plenty of time, anyway."

They sat in silence for a couple minutes.

"You're still not done?!" Tessa exclaimed ten minutes, breaking the silence. "I'm going to set a time limit on your turns. You take forever."

"There. Done."

Tessa squinted at the board. "What kind of word is  _that?"_

"It's my award winning word."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"You just lost, Tessa Virtue. How does it feel?" Scott cheered, jumping around the room. "How does it feel, to lose to me?"

Tessa crossed her arms. "You definitely cheated. That doesn't count. You probably used your dictionary app, like you always do."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll rematch, then, and whoever wins-"

"Whoever wins, gets to pick our next exhibition song," Tessa said immediately. 

He frowned. "That's not that big of a deal, though."

_"And costumes."_

"NO!"

"Yes," Tessa said smugly.

"I refuse."

"Then I automatically win. Because we've both agreed that you cheated."

Scott groaned. "Fine. Whoever wins, gets to pick our next exhibition song and costumes."

"And control the choreography."

"This is going way too far!"

"What, having doubts in your Words with Friends talent?" Tessa teased.

"Fine."

* * *

 

And that was how Scott found himself stepping onto the ice _alone_ a month later after their next competition, as Tessa gloated from the sidelines. To make matters worse, he was in a bright yellow suit, with orange accents. More specifically, an animal onesie. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, Scott Moir, from Canada, skating to 'The Duck Song.'"

"You're annoying," Scott mouthed at Tessa. 

She just gave him a smile and a thumbs up as the music started. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words with friends is online scrabble, for those of you who might not be familiar with it.
> 
> the duck song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtN1YnoL46Q  
> an american classic, not sure if it's popular anywhere else but i thought it would be funny. 
> 
> fyi, every 5 chapters we'll have special guest appearances!


	4. Textbook Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> high school AU i guess? in this one they're american because i don't know Canadian high school classes AT ALL

AP United States History. 

Scott regretted every decision he'd made regarding that class- who thought it was a good idea to take another year of US history when most of it had already been drilled into his mind a thousand times?

He couldn't even blame his mother for this. Taking APUSH had been Scott's idea. His other options were Economics (boring) and Government (also boring). What was left had been US history.

Great.

What he hadn't realized was that they also had to buy their textbooks. Hockey was expensive enough. He didn't need the added bonus of needing to buy the class textbook, too.

He was only going to use it for, what, a year?

Might as well skip it. There was a copy in the library, he could use that.

That was how Scott found himself in the school library almost every day for lunch, sitting there like... well, a nerd. Lunch was the only free period he had to use the book. Other people had study halls during the day, but Scott, being the genius he was, decided to fill those spots with extra gym credits. 

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Scott pulled the thick homework assignment out of his backpack and slapped it onto the table. The resulting sound won him some disapproving looks from the librarian, which he chose to ignore.

Wearily, Scott flipped open the book to the assigned page and began reading, filling in his packet as he went. 

This was easy. 

He glanced at his packet for the next question. Half of his answer from the previous question was running into the one he was trying to read. That's what he got for having bad handwriting.

As long as he got this done before lunch was over, he would be fine.

He turned the page and stopped.

Someone had left a piece of paper in the book. At first, he assumed it was his.

A closer look told him it couldn't have been- the handwriting was way too nice to ever have come from Scott. His heart jumped- maybe it was the answers. Then he could stop reading and just copy the mystery person's work.

He skimmed the paper.

It was a story- at least, it looked like it. 

He flipped the page over. 

On the other side, there was a drawing. Some kind of winter scene, Scott guessed. A lone skater spun on a frozen pond, illuminated by the moon. It was all in pencil, but the detail was incredible. Someone had taken a long time on this. 

He carefully tore a corner off a page in his notebook and marked the place where he'd found the drawing, then set the drawing itself aside. Maybe whoever drew it would come back for it. He might as well spare them from having to flip through the enormous textbook looking for it. After a second, he got out a sticky note, too, and put it next to the drawing.

_You left this in the AP US History book. You were on page 77._

A glance at the clock set Scott into a panic. He skimmed the rest of the chapter, scribbled some notes, and then hastily shoved his work into his backpack. He snapped the textbook shut and put it back on the shelf, for next time.

* * *

 

The next day, Friday, Scott opened the textbook again with a sigh. 

Suddenly, he remembered the mysterious drawing that had been left in the book yesterday. It was gone, he saw. If he was being honest, he was a little sad. He liked that drawing.

Part of him hoped there would be another drawing today. But, as he made his way through today's assignment, he was disappointed to see that there were no drawings this time.

Once he'd finished the day's homework, he pulled out a piece of lined paper and scribbled a stick figure playing hockey, sticking it a few pages into the book. Their next homework was bound to be in those pages, so he guessed that it wouldn't be long before someone looked at those page. Even if it was just Scott. 

Maybe the mystery artist would find it. 

Or, maybe not. It could have been a one-time textbook use. Maybe they forgot it at home. 

He hoped not.

* * *

 He'd forgotten about his stick figure drawing by the time Monday's lunch period rolled around. The weekend had been busy. Scott's team had gone to a hockey tournament. They'd lost spectacularly, even though Scott managed to sneak in his team's only two goals.

He hadn't had time to finish his homework over the weekend, so he had even more work ahead of him than usual. He reluctantly opened the book, and started reading, but none of the words registered in his mind.

 _If you had just scored a few more goals, you would have won,_ the evil voice in his head kept telling him. 

Scott flipped the page angrily, almost tearing it in the process. He froze when he saw the piece of paper left in page 98. 

It was his stick figure- the one he'd drawn playing hockey. But now, the stick figure had friends. There was a fox referee, a rabbit as a right wing, and a bear as a goalie. The artist had even drawn them an arena.

He couldn't help but smile as he turned back to the textbook. 

When he'd finished his homework (surprisingly, he'd got it done with time to spare) he carefully slid the hockey drawing into his history folder and tore out another piece of notebook paper.

He carefully drew a little elf on the paper. It didn't turn out as good as he'd hoped- the hat was a little lopsided and the elf's gaze was admittedly a little creepy. But he put it into the textbook anyway.

It  _was_ almost Christmas.

* * *

 

Scott and the mystery artist continued this exchange in the weeks leading up to Christmas break. He slowly started to get a better idea of the artist's personality- they had a sense of humor, and they were very meticulous about their work. Everything they drew was perfect.

They'd only written a few times.

 _The answer to question 14 is best found in the glossary, not the text._ Scott found the note written on a Post-It on the first page of the day's assignment. The tip turned out to be pretty helpful. Without the artist, he probably would have spent a lot of unnecessary time looking for the answer to question 14. 

He wished that there was some way he could help out the artist- but they always got to the homework assignments first. He felt bad- they'd been so nice to him, but he hadn't ever really returned the favor.

It was two days before Christmas break started. Scott found himself standing in the aisle of an art store, looking at their endless selection of pens, pencils, paints, and markers.

After about fifteen minutes of intense thought, he finally picked out a box of 100 colored pencils.

He walked toward the check-out line but stopped, turned around, and darted into the aisle he'd just passed. He emerged triumphantly a minute later with wrapping paper and ribbon in his hand.

He'd leave the gift tomorrow. Hopefully, the artist would still come into the library on the last day of school before break. 

* * *

 

Tessa stepped into the library for the last time before Christmas break. It was third period- her only study hall. She always spent it in the library, always at the same table.

And usually doing her APUSH homework. She didn't have a textbook. Figure skating was expensive. Her parents told her she'd have to pay for everything that wasn't about skating. She was a responsible teenager, they told her. 

She couldn't argue- she was extremely grateful that her parents paid for her skating. Otherwise, she'd be even more broke than she already was.

And if she'd had her own textbook, she wouldn't have ever met her library friend. Met wasn't the right word. But she never would have interacted with whoever kept leaving her drawings to finish. 

She had to admit, it was kind of fun to communicate with someone, even if they never saw each other in person. She didn't even know their name. 

Tessa froze when she got to her usual table. 

Something was different. Sitting on the table was a box, instead of just the history textbook. 

It was wrapped a little sloppily, she had to say, but the wrapping paper itself was thoughtful. Whoever had been leaving the drawings had also drawn their own on the plain wrapping paper. All stick figures, most of them holding enormous textbooks. Some of them held a pencil in one hand, like a sword. Others had a hockey stick.

She'd never talked with whoever had left her this gift. She got the impression that whoever it was loved hockey. Almost everything they left her had something to do with hockey. 

_For the artist. Happy holidays. - Scott_

Now she knew her mystery friend was a boy- which she'd guessed by their ironic sense of humor, messy handwriting, hockey obsession. Tessa carefully unwrapped the paper, being careful not to rip it, so that she could reuse it. 

Inside was a box of colored pencils- Crayola. But there were a hundred of them. 

It was one of the most thoughtful gifts Tessa had gotten in a long time- and from someone she barely knew. How much time had it taken her friend- Scott- to find these? To wrap it? She couldn't even guess.

She took a piece of paper out of her binder, opened the box of pencils, and began to draw. 

* * *

Break was over. 

Scott hurried to the library as soon as the lunch bell rang, eager to see if the artist had found his gift.

The box was gone. In its place was a sheet of paper, with a beautiful drawing.

There was color this time.

It was of two figures on another pond. The artist seemed to have an obsession with ponds. One held a hockey stick and one was stuck mid-spin. Above, Santa's sleigh rode across a starry sky. 

_For Scott. Thank you, and happy holidays. - Tessa_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any requests/prompts? comment below! thank you for reading!
> 
> based off the "person A and person B both share the only library copy of a textbook" prompt


	5. Textbook Case, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2, as requested!

After the Christmas gift exchange, Scott received more actual notes from the artist he now knew as Tessa. It seemed to have unlocked possibilities that they'd never considered before.

While the notes still remained mostly U.S. History related, sometimes, they'd share other things, too. 

Scott learned that Tessa's obsession with ponds came mostly from her ice skating background. Apparently, according to Tessa, she was a world-class figure skater. That was admittedly a little intimidating to Scott.

He was impressed. 

In turn, he shared his hockey obsession. She didn't seem that surprised when he wrote that he was a hockey player, she just sketched him a mouse wearing a hockey jersey and left it at that.

The end of the year drew to a close- soon, they had their AP final exam.

It was Tessa who suggested that they study together, instead of alone.

_We might as well, since we've been sharing the same textbook and the same answers practically all year,_ she wrote. 

Scott agreed. They settled on a time (lunch) and agreed to meet.

Even though Scott shouldn't have been nervous, he was. Just a little. He wore a black shirt and jeans, but nice ones.

He got to the library first, but Tessa (or the girl he assumed was Tessa) walked in not a few minutes later. 

She was beautiful. She had dark, wavy hair and brown eyes. She wore a tank top and capris, and carried a backpack that looked like it weighed more than she did.

"Scott, right?" 

"Yeah. You're Tessa."

"How'd you guess?" Tessa asked, laughing.

"The pencil on your hands, plus, you're wearing a skating tank top," Scott told her. "It's not like most girls in this school ice skate. I took a wild guess."

She admitted defeat then. 

He hadn't needed to be worried about meeting her- conversation came easily. It was like they'd known each other their whole lives. She pulled out her old homework packets.

"I figured we could study from these," she suggested. "They seem like reasonable questions for an exam."

Scott agreed. 

They studied for about twenty minutes of their lunch break. Scott munched on Doritos while Tessa picked at a chocolate muffin.

"You know, if you're eating a chocolate muffin, you might as well just have a cupcake," Scott commented. Tessa looked up from her notes.

"Are you dissing my muffin?" she demanded.

"Maybe."

"I see how it is."

They fell back into silence for a little while, as Scott flipped through the textbook. "I feel like I know everything pretty well."

"Yeah, me too," Tessa said. "I guess... I guess that means we don't need to study anymore."

Scott noticed her reluctance. "Well, I'm not comfortable with the civil war yet. Could you come tomorrow and help me out with that?" he asked hurriedly. Tessa brightened.

"Sure."

"I'll bring some real food, next time," Scott continued.

For the next few days, they continued meeting up in the library over lunch. Scott would bring all different types of food- baguettes one day, quesadillas the next. Once he even brought hot chocolate, even though it was May.

Each time, he'd make an excuse for Tessa to come back. She never seemed to mind.

* * *

 

Scott walked out of his A.P. US History final feeling relieved. Thank God that was over. That had been the longest final of his life.

"Hey, Scott!"

He turned. Tessa was hurrying to catch up to him, minus her huge backpack, this time.

"Hey, T!" he exclaimed. "How was your final?"

Since she had history before him, she'd already taken the final, too.

"It was pretty easy," she said. "But longer than I expected. I don't think I would have gotten through all of it without our study breaks, to be honest."

"Same here."

They stood there awkwardly for a little while. Tessa cleared her throat. "Well, I better get going. Practice, you know."

She started to walk away.

"Wait!" Scott called, falling into step next to her. "What classes are you taking next year?"

"Um, A.P. Calculus, A.P. Literature, A.P. Physics... I'm not looking forward to paying for all the books, if I'm being honest," Tessa told him. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking... I'm taking A.P. Physics, too. Do you maybe want to split the cost, and share a textbook?"

Tessa blinked. "You really want to share a textbook with me?"

Scott punched her shoulder gently. "We've already shared a textbook. Why not make it official? Besides, who am I going to steal muffins from?"

"You told me you didn't like muffins!" Tessa protested. Scott gave her a look. "Okay, fine. We'll share a textbook. I'll order it and you can pay me back when you see me next."

"Sure. Have a great summer, Tessa."

"You too, Scott. See you in the library."


	6. The Bake-Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> special guests, as promised

 

Tessa flopped onto her bed with a sigh.

The whirlwind media tour after the games had finally died down- and she was completely alone, for perhaps the first time since winning gold in Pyeongchang. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the comforts of Montreal until now.

But it was strange, to have nothing to prepare for. Well, there was the tour, but that wouldn't start for a while. She still had time. 

Before the Olympics, there was never enough time. Never enough time on the ice, never enough time spent with her parents, never enough, never enough, never enough. 

Without the hustle of preparing for competition, a few weeks seemed like an awful long time for Tessa to spend alone.

So, she did something she probably should have done sooner.

She called the French.

Tessa always hated the media's portrayal of her relationship with Gabriella and Guillaume. Sure, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. They  _were_ competitors, first and foremost. And the French's more reserved personalities probably clashed with the Canadian's bubbly personalities when someone was looking at it from the outside.

But it wasn't like they were  _always_ dueling on the ice. Competitions were one thing, practice was another. Outside of the rink was a completely different story. 

Both teams had made an effort at some point in the last two years to connect outside of the competition circuit. Last year, the French's contribution had been a pottery studio outing, while Tessa and Scott convinced Gabi and Guillaume to go to an amusement park. 

It had been entertaining to see how terrified both Scott and Guillaume were on the haunted house ride. 

And after the Canadians lost the Grand Prix, the French invited Tessa and Scott out to breakfast. 

Tessa called them, hoping that they weren't busy, and hoping that, despite what had happened in the Olympics, Gabi and Guillaume would still want to meet up with Tessa and Scott.

They were surprisingly enthusiastic about what Tessa suggested.

* * *

 

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Scott complained as he stood in Tessa's kitchen.

"For fun," Tessa scolded him, slapping his hand away from the jar of chocolate chips sitting on the counter. "And, to make dessert. I think we all deserve a treat, and we don't have to fit into our costumes anymore, so."

"What are we making?" Scott asked. 

Tessa exchanged glances with Gabi and Guillaume. "I haven't made up my mind... but I was thinking that a little friendly competition sounded like fun."

"I don't like where this is going," Guillaume commented dryly. 

"We should split into teams," Tessa continued.

"I don't like where this is going, either," Scott agreed. 

"Boys versus girls."

Gabi exchanged a mischievous look with Tessa, as Guillaume and Scott groaned. "I knew this was going to be a bad idea," Scott said. 

"What do you want to make? We should agree on a theme. Cookies, cupcakes, pie, cake?" Tessa asked, looking around. "Anyone have strong opinions? Personally, I'm thinking cake."

"Cake sounds good," Guillaume agreed. "As long as there's ice cream."

"I have vanilla, if that works."

Guillaume nodded appreciatively. 

"So, the rules: no sabotage. One cake only, two layers maximum. Anything in this kitchen is fair game," Tessa continued. 

Scott raised his eyebrows. "What about... in other kitchens?"

"You can't buy a cake from the bakery," Gabi said immediately. Guillaume snapped his fingers.

"There goes my plan," he commented.

"Enough goofing around. Let's begin," Tessa said, rubbing her hands together and turning to Gabi. "Time's up in two hours."

* * *

 

It turned out, Gabriella was a pretty talented baker. And, considering that Guillaume designed his ice dancing costumes, he was shockingly bad at icing a cake. Tessa, on the other hand, excelled (for some odd reason) at making frosting flowers. 

The real surprise was Scott's talent for fondant sculpting.

They worked for about an hour and a half on their creations. Tessa's Spotify played in the background- Gabi and Guillaume fell to the ground in mock horror when 'Shape of You' came on. 

"You have five minutes!" Tessa declared, checking the alarm she'd set on her phone. 

Gabi was frantically applying the frosting flowers Tessa had made, whereas Guillaume and Scott were arguing about how fat they had to make their fondant polar bear. 

Tessa couldn't help but laugh at the drastic differences between the girl's cake and the guy's cake.

She quickly helped Gabi with the remaining flowers, and gave the cake one last look before the time ran out.

"Time's up!" she called.

Scott groaned. "We never got to give the polar bear any friends."

Scott and Guillaume's cake had a dark blue base, with sugar sprinkled on the bottom to look like snow. They'd layered white fondant on the top, to look like snow as well, and then they'd put a cute polar bear in the center of the cake. Tessa wasn't sure what flavor the boys had picked. 

Tessa and Gabi's cake, on the other hand, had a light blue layer of frosting on the outside, and was covered with white and blue flowers. Their cake was vanilla flavored- simple, but one that both Tessa and Gabi had agreed on. They hadn't wanted to over complicate their cake. The flowers were time-consuming enough- they didn't need a difficult cake recipe on top of that. 

"I like it," Gabi said, nodding approvingly. "It's very cute."

"Mission accomplished."

Guillaume peered over at Tessa and Gabi's cake. "How did you  _make_ those?!" he demanded. "It would have taken me forever to do that!"

"It's actually not hard. I'll teach you sometime," Tessa laughed. 

"So, who won?" Scott asked excitedly. "I think we did. Obviously ours is cuter."

Guillaume and Scott gave each other high fives.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Tessa exclaimed, holding up her hands. "I'm not the judge. I actually texted Meagan, Eric, and Patch to come judge the cakes."

Gabi raised her eyebrows. "This is more serious than I thought," she commented, then laughed. "I guess we always must be competitors one way or another. May the best cake win."

* * *

 

Eric's nose was less than an inch away from the surface of the polar bear cake. "I think I see some of the cake," he commented, writing down something on his clipboard. "Interesting."

Meagan, on the other hand, was practically upside-down as she peered at the flower cake. "Very interesting composition. I'm liking the color choices, although, it could do with a little more pop. It needs a focal point."

"You guys are taking this way too seriously," Tessa told them. Meagan peered over at the four ice dancers, who were standing off to the side, arms crossed.

"You wanted a judge. I take my cakes very seriously here."

Patch was silent, but he, too, was scrutinizing the cakes intensely. "They both look beautiful, but we have to try them before we decide," he said finally. "Slice the cakes, please."

Gabi cut the cakes neatly and efficiently, handing slices to Meagan, Eric and Patch as well as the other three bakers. 

The kitchen was silent as everyone processed the cake flavors. 

"Interesting," Eric said for the second time that afternoon. "Very intriguing indeed."

Meagan nodded in agreement. 

"Are you ready to make your decisions?" Patch asked Meagan and Eric. They nodded.

"Write down your choice on a piece of paper, then flip it over on the count of three," Eric said. 

"1, 2, 3!"

Silence. "I was so sure we were gonna win," Scott said sadly to Guillaume. 

Meagan had voted for the polar bear cake, but Patch and Eric had chosen the flower cake. Tessa and Gabi exchanged high-fives. 

"Was yours the polar bear one?" Meagan asked. "You and Guillaume? I liked that one."

Scott nodded. 

"It was very good, but... Tessa and Gabi did an amazing job with theirs. But I would gladly eat both of them any day," Eric told them all. "Very well done."

Tessa and Gabi exchanged a hug and then shook hands with the boys. 

"Well played," Guillaume told them.

* * *

 

When Meagan, Eric, and Patch left the four bakers were left standing in the messy kitchen, with half-eaten cakes.

"Well, the cakes aren't going to eat themselves," Tessa said finally. "How about a movie, some cake, and some ice cream after we clean up? I did promise Guillaume some, after all."

"Sure."

The four got to work- Tessa put away all the ingredients, Scott washed the dishes while Gabi dried, and Guillaume wiped off the counters and the floor.

Once they were done, they all grabbed a slice of cake and flopped down on the couch in Tessa's living room. 

"That took more out of me than I though it would," Tessa commented.

"Baking is hard," Gabi agreed.

"We should do this again sometime," Scott said with his mouth full of cake.

 _"After_ we practice our icing skills," Guillaume reminded Scott. 

"Whoops. Yeah, after that."

"Or before that," Gabi suggested with a smile in Tessa's direction. "Then we'd win."

"No, no!" Scott protested. "I think we should switch teams. Me and Gabi, Tessa and Guillaume. And a new food. Not cake."

"Next time," Tessa promised.

_Next time._

Because there would be a next time, and another after that. Baking together became a tradition. They may have finished competing in the ice rink with the French, but their adventures in cooking had really just begun. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for:  
> Scott and Guillaume's cake:  
> http://img.cakesdecor.com/c_limit,f_auto,h_1000,q_80,w_540/uwzpq0bwpbesfqvd8gyb.jpg
> 
> Tessa and Gabriella's cake:  
> https://savorgoodfood.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/spring-flower-cake-3.jpg
> 
> hopefully you enjoyed the guest appearances! i personally love the french, and i was excited to feature them. maybe tessa & scott should start a baking show. i would watch it. 
> 
> suggestions for future chapters are welcome!


	7. Just Take the Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt as written in the chapter title, just a short little one :)

_"Just take the damn jacket."_

They were sitting in the press conference room in Helsinki, for Worlds, waiting for the officials to start the actual conference. They'd already been given their medals and taken pictures- they'd been waiting for at least twenty minutes.

The Shibutanis looked like they were talking to a camera. Scott guessed they were vlogging. Gabriella and Guillaume were having some kind of intense, complicated looking version of tic-tac-toe, with nine miniature games encased in one overarching game. They'd tried to teach Scott, but he'd lost badly to Gabi. He told them it was probably for the best that he didn't learn, or he'd get addicted. 

Tessa was sitting there, shivering, arms wrapped tightly around her body. The minor sniffles that she'd gotten at the end of the short dance had developed into a full-fledged cold. 

"T, come on."

She shook her head. "I'm fine," she insisted. "It'll be over soon, anyway."

This was how things always went- Tessa remained adamant that she was fine, and Scott bugged her about it until she finally relented. But today she seemed especially stubborn. 

Scott rolled his eyes. "I'm going to keep bothering you about it, you know."

"Well, you can stop, because I'm fine."

"At least drink some water."

Tessa tossed him a 'look'. "Stop, I'm  _fine."_

"We are ready to start the press conference for ice dance," the moderator said into the microphone, tapping it to get everyone's attention. Scott immediately straightened, mentally steeling himself to be asked the same questions he'd always been asked.

"Congratulations, to start, for Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir. I want to ask, I saw you hugging before the free dance began. What does that hug mean to you?"

Scott paused for a second. "Well, I think it's always been important to make sure that we're synchronized and together. It's a nice calming moment, plus, without jackets, it's a little chilly in the rink. It's good to stay warm."

That earned a few chuckles from the press. 

Scott took that opportunity to quickly check on Tessa. He could practically hear her teeth chattering from where he sat. She'd adjusted so that her feet were on her chair, and her chin was propped up on her knees.

It was instantly clear to him that she was, in fact, really sick. She usually had near-perfect posture in the press conferences. Now, she just looked like she was trying to make herself as small as possible. 

"Do any of you ever get used to the stress of competing?" was the next question.

Scott took it before Tessa could. "I don't think so, no. There are always new challenges. Also, a world title is not something you just brush aside. We honestly weren't sure if a world title would even be on the table for us, since the field this year is so deep."

Two questions later, and Scott had had enough. He took his jacket off as quickly as he could while Gabriella answered a question, trying to be as discreet as possible. He handed it to Tessa without a word.

The fact that Tessa didn't protest showed Scott just how cold she'd been.

Once the press conference was over, and everyone was leaving, Scott turned to Tessa. "Next time, just admit defeat, and take the freakin' jacket."

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't cold."

But, as Scott noticed, she kept the jacket on all the way back to the hotel. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was fictionalized a little, if you watch the helsinki press conference none of this happens :) scott and tessa, in real life, arrived late. some of the questions are also different.


	8. If I Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happens when there's one more obstacle for our favorite duo?

It all started when Tessa had a hard time reading the scores when they were posted. 

She'd had glasses for a while, and she wore contacts while she skated. But when she couldn't read the scores at the Olympics, Tessa knew, in the back of her mind, that something was wrong.

Even the airport boarding list was hazy, no matter how much she squinted. She passed it off as tiredness.

But when she'd had two weeks at home after the post-Olympic media tour, even Tessa had to admit something was wrong. 

She'd had to turn up the brightness on her phone all the way, and even then, the words were fuzzy. Fans wondered why she wasn't on Instagram. They put it off as a 'social media break', but in reality, it was just impossible for her to read any of the captions. 

On top of that, she'd complimented Scott on his gray shirt, when it'd really been blue.

That was what really shocked he into going the eye doctor's office one afternoon.

They performed numerous tests. Tessa hated them.

It was one of the few times in her life where she felt like she was failing every test given.

And she very rarely failed.

It took two hours, longer than she'd expected. She'd told Scott she'd meet him for dinner. Any longer and she'd have to cancel. She hoped that-

The eye doctor walked back into the room with a grave look on his face.

"Tessa, we have some bad news. It looks like you have something called wet macular degeneration. This means that there are blood vessels leaking fluid into your eyes," he said, sitting next to her. "Wet macular degeneration progresses quickly, and, sadly, there's nothing we can do to repair the damage that's already been done."

"It took us longer than usual because you don't have any of the usual markers of macular degeneration. You're young, and you're in excellent health. Unfortunately, it looks like your case manifested itself abnormally early."

Tessa just sat there. "Um, what does this mean?"

"You won't lose your sight completely. You'll still have peripheral vision. You can have laser therapy, to try and seal off and destroy the blood vessels that are developing in your eyes, or you can take medicine that can help prevent the vessels from growing back. You can do both. But, I'm going to suggest that you go to a specialist in the near future," the doctor told her. 

He paused. "And, I realize that this may not be ideal for a woman of your age, but, with macular degeneration, you won't be allowed to drive."

_"What?"_

"In your case, much of the damage has already occurred. You mentioned not being able to differentiate colors and being unable to read your phone. These show me that your eyesight is already significantly damaged."

Tessa heard him, but all of the words coming out of his mouth were becoming blurred together.

"So I'm going blind?"

The doctor swallowed. "Not completely. You'll have partial vision, and your peripheral vision should remain much like it is now. But yes, you are going blind."

 "How long do I have?"

 "It depends on what you qualify as blindness. Weeks. A month or two at the most," he answered. "But..."

 _Weeks._ Only weeks before she'd be legally blind. 

* * *

 Scott waited at the restaurant for over forty minutes for Tessa to show up, constantly checking his phone. But there was nothing- no texts, no calls. 

He was getting worried. Tessa never stood him up. She wouldn't. He refused to think that she would. And she usually told him if she couldn't make it.

His phone buzzed on the table and he instantly answered it.

"Hello?"

"Scott, it's Tessa."

"Are you okay?" he asked instantly. "I've been waiting for you."

She took a deep breath. "I know. I'm sorry. I need you to pick me up."

"Yeah, sure," Scott agreed instantly. Something  _was_ wrong. He could hear it in her voice. "Where are you?"

Tessa gave him the address. 

As soon as she got in the car, he could tell something had happened. She was quiet - quieter than she'd ever been around Scott. She didn't even sing along to the radio. 

 "Where to?" he asked, breaking the suffocating silence. 

 "Home."

 So that's where they went. Tessa unbuckled her seatbelt before he'd even parked.

He grabbed her wrist. "T, what's wrong?"

He'd expected something bad, but...

Tessa turned. "Scott, I'm going blind."

* * *

 

She was almost afraid to look him, afraid to see what he'd think, afraid of what he would do. Afraid that she'd lose her partner, forever. She kept looking at the ground, waiting for him to drive away. It seemed inevitable. 

Scott was silent. 

Tessa swallowed the sob rising in her throat and turned to go back inside.

"Tess, wait," he said.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and came around the side of his car, wrapping her in a hug. 

"How long?" he asked Tessa, pulling away to look her in the eyes. "How long have you known?"

"Not long. Today," she whispered. 

"How bad?" 

A tear rolled down her cheeks. "I'll be legally- legally blind in weeks."

_"Tessa."_

The way he said her name broke her a little inside. Suddenly, she realized what this would mean. For her, for Scott.

"I'm so sorry, Scott," she sobbed. 

"Don't be sorry, T," he said, squeezing her tighter. She buried her face in his jacket. "We can still be together."

Tessa took a deep breath, steeling herself to say the words that she didn't want to say. 

"We can't."

"What?" 

"We  _can't_ be together, not anymore. I won't be able to drive, I won't be able to read, I won't be able to write. My skating career is  _over,_ " Tessa said. She pulled herself out of his grasp and hurried to the apartment. "There's no reason for you to stick around, when your business partner won't be able to carry out her side of the bargain."

"Tessa!"

 

They'd reached her apartment now. Tessa unlocked the door as quickly as she could, fumbling with her keys. She couldn't tell if she couldn't open the door because of her actual eye disease, or because of the tears that now streamed down her face.

"It's time for you to find a new partner, Scott. You deserve more than this."

She finally got the door open.

"You don't need to stay. You never signed up for this."

Then she slammed the door closed. 

* * *

 

Tessa was alone in her apartment, blinds down, door closed. She sat on the couch with a book open on her lap, but she wasn't reading it. Her mind was racing.

Every minute that went by became even more unbearable.

As she sat here, how much of her vision was deteriorating? How many more minutes would she have like this?

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and turned back to her book.

Her phone rang, which she answered without looking.

"Tessa."

Her mom. 

"Hey, mom."

"I got your message and starting driving as soon as I heard it. I'm so sorry, sweetie. I'm parking in your lot now, alright?"

Tessa tried to muster even the slightest bit of happiness, for her mom's sake. "Okay, mom. I'll see you soon."

That word alone reminded Tessa with a jolt of what was to come. How many times would she look her mom directly in the eye? 

The doorbell rang. Tessa opened it.

"Mom-"

She froze. Her eyesight might not have been as good as it used to have been, but it was clear to her that it was not her mother at the door. It was Scott. She'd recognize that figure anywhere. 

"I'm sorry, I called your mom," Scott apologized. Tessa went to shut the door. He stopped her, sticking out a hand and catching the door before it could close all the way. "I knew you wouldn't answer if you thought it was me, but Tessa, you never gave me a chance."

"You don't need to do this, Scott. Dealing with this mess isn't something that you have to deal with," Tessa told him. "It was never in our plan."

"You think our relationship is just about business, skating, and making money?" Scott demanded. "Maybe it was for a little bit. But I thought I'd made it clear that this relationship goes way past the Olympics and the competitions. We've been together too long to quit on each other when it gets rough. I made that mistake once, and I'm not going to let it happen again."

"No matter what happens, I'm here to stay. I promise."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of the details of macular degeneration are probably incorrect but for the sake of this story i hope the details helped a little bit!
> 
> any requests for prompts, characters? feel free to drop them in the comments!


	9. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writing winter stories in the summer makes so much sense

"Tessa, it's that time of year," Scott said gravely. "You need to come over."

"Do you have the paper? And the pens?" Tessa asked. 

"Yes, I have them. I think. I'm pretty sure."

"Good, I'll be there in ten minutes."

When Tessa arrived, Scott had already gotten all the supplies out. The vanilla candle, the thick parchment paper, the personalized fountain pens... He'd even baked cookies- double chocolate, her favorite.

"Ready?"

"You know, you'd think we'd get tired of this after every year. It's not like we're kids anymore. We know the secret. Nothing's going to happen," Tessa reminded him as they sat down across the table from each other. 

"It's just to get in the Christmas spirit," Scott said. "Plus, it's fun. I like it. Sometimes things do happen."

"I'm not complaining," Tessa laughed, grabbing a cookie off the tray. "Alright. Let's start."

She grabbed the fountain pen with the gold  _Tessa_ on it, and began to write.

* * *

 

_Dear Santa,_

_This year has been amazing. I want to thank you for that, most of all. The Olympics were everything I could have asked for, and more. That was the best gift I could have received. The memories will be something I will cherish forever._

_It's a little weird to write to you, even after all these years. I think about it every time Scott and I sit down to do this. We're not nine years old. We're not kids. But still, we sit here and write to you. I don't know why we still do it. Maybe stopping means giving up on being kids. Maybe that's it._

_Like every year, I'm not going to ask for much. Just health for everyone- my family, my friends. And happiness. I hope that everyone feel fulfilled the same way that I do at this moment. I want everyone to be warm, and safe, and content. I know it's not possible in this world. But maybe writing this will help, even though I know you're not real._

_And like every year, I have to thank you for Scott._

_Nothing can compare to this. To this friendship, this immense gift. I am eternally grateful for him and everything he does. He is the best partner I could have ever asked for, and I probably don't deserve him at all. He is wonderful, and kind, and compassionate. He is the best human being I have ever met. I cannot imagine life without him, and I don't want to._

_As our future with competitive ice dance draws to a close, and we continue with touring, the only thing I find myself wishing for is forever with him. Twenty years is not enough, nor will it ever be. It's an immense request, I realize that. We are different people, with different interests. It's only a matter of time before we drift apart. The age of competing together is probably over, and without that, I am afraid. I am afraid of losing him._

_For Christmas, please give me a little more time with him before this bond breaks. Let us stay like this, like kids, for just a little while longer._

_It's hard to imagine that twenty years ago I was asking for a stuffed bear._

_Once again, sincerely,_

_Tessa_

* * *

Scott watched Tessa write for a few seconds. Her eyes were focused solely on her writing, her cookie sitting forgotten on her plate. He smiled a little as he turned to his own paper and began writing. 

**To Santa Claus:**

**Hey. It's been a year. Some pretty awesome stuff has happened since I wrote you last year. The Olympics. Stars on Ice. I've made friends, memories, and food.**

**I guess you could call it a pretty successful year.**

**But somehow, it's like the end of an era now. Competing was great. The tours have been great. But at the same time, I feel like there's only so long we can drag this whole skating thing out. I'll be old soon. I can't picture myself skating at this level when I'm forty, even though I'd like to imagine that I'd still be fit enough.**

**The future is opening up in front of me, and I don't know if I like it. It's weird- when I was little, all I wanted to do was grow up. Become an adult, get my own apartment, win the Olympics.**

**I never stopped to think about what would happen after I did all that.**

**It'd be nice to have a little help from you. If you have time, that is. I know there's a lot of requests you have to field. And hey, if there's anyone who's had an amazing life, it's me. So feed the hungry kids first, then come back here.**

**Jokes aside... I guess you could say I'm asking for life to slow down a little bit. It's going by too fast. I'm not asking for much. I feel like I have a moment, but when I blink, it's gone.**

**Let me keep everything I have. My family, the memories I've made, the jokes...**

**And Tessa.**

**I don't want to lose her. So if you could just, maybe, for a week, or a month, or a year, just give me more _time_ with the past, then I'll be ready for the future. Maybe I'll grow up in that year enough to be able to handle change, to think about a life without skating, without Tess.  **

**But I can't do it now.**

**Also, a new coffee mug would be great. My old one broke.**

**Scott.**

 


	10. Baker's Dozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> special guests- marina and marie-france!

Like every morning, Tessa's day started with muffins. More specifically, three batches of muffins, each a different flavor. Her specialty- double chocolate, chocolate chip, and lemon poppy seed. Those were the flavors she'd chosen today.

Then, she moved on to croissants. Those were a  _lot_ more time consuming, and stressful, too, with her boss, Marina, breathing heavily down her shoulder the entire time she was making them. 

After croissants, Tessa usually made two different types of pound cake. Marina always insisted on her making cinnamon pound cake, and then Tessa's other choice was usually chocolate and vanilla marbled together.

By the time she'd accomplished all of that, it was 7:00, and Marina was opening the doors to the bakery. 

But her job was far from over. Tessa moved to the cash register, and the two other girls, Kaetlyn and Meagan, kept baking. They made a fun trio, which helped offset the tense vibes that Marina usually sent their way.

The doorbell jingled.  "Hi, welcome to The Bake Room. Is there anything I can help you with?" Tessa said, without even looking up at the person that had just walked in. "Are you interested in today's special?"

"No, not really. I'm having a party, and I was hoping that you guys did custom-made cupcakes?" 

Tessa quickly finished setting up the muffins and finally looked at the guy who'd been speaking. He was tall, with tousled brown hair. He was dressed in sweatpants and a jacket.

"We do make custom cupcakes, but we need a few days in advance. You can look at our book on the counter for some ideas, or I can sketch one out for you if there's something particular you had in mind," she told him, getting paper and pens out from under the cash register.

He flipped through the book for a little, pausing once and a while. 

"Can I ask what they're for?" she asked after a few minutes. 

"Sure. My friends and I are going to the Olympics in a week, and I'm throwing a kind of team party. I was hoping for something Olympic themed, or maybe Canada, or ice skating related, but you don't have a lot of that kind of thing in there," he replied. 

Tessa smiled. "No, not really. Most of our customers are people looking for birthday cupcakes or wedding ideas. I can talk you through some designs that work better, if you want?"

"I'm not super artsy..." the guy said, laughing. "I just do what people tell me."

"That's very noble of you," Tessa commented. "What flavor cake are you thinking? Generally I recommend the generic flavors- vanilla and chocolate- but with a Canada theme, you could get away with a maple cake or even red velvet. Although, too much red food coloring can be a bit overwhelming if you decide on red frosting as well."

"Let's keep it kind of simple. Chocolate seems nice."

Tessa wrote 'chocolate' on her paper. "Do you want to go with the Olympic theme, or are you leaning towards the Canada side of things? You have plenty of options either way."

"Maybe Canada?" he said. 

"You don't sound super convinced," Tessa told him with a little smile. 

"Well, what do you think? You seem more artsy than I am... your opinion is probably more valuable."

"I doubt that, but since it's for your friends, I'm going to agree with you and say maybe the Canada theme would be more touching. I can't say I'd know from experience, but they're going to represent Canada, so... you might as well."

"Alright, Canada."

"Buttercream frosting, I'm guessing?" 

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds unhealthy, so that's fantastic."

Tessa laughed.

The man winked. "That's a sound that I like to hear."

She blushed. "Red, or white coloring?"

"Either is fine. Red, maybe."

"I could swirl them together," Tessa said thoughtfully. "Put them in the same bag and pipe them together. It'd be more of a marbley effect, but it could tone down the intensity of the red well."

"I'm just going to nod and let you plan these, because I'm starting to realize just how little I know about baking cupcakes."

"No, you're doing great. And I'll get some colored sugar, and some flags? Does that sound good?" 

"Definitely."

Tessa paused. "Now that I think of it, I could do the frosting in more of a flowery type situation, instead of classically... to make it look more leafy."

The man gave her a grin. "Whatever you think is best."

"Well, I'll try both, and I'll make whichever one works better. When do you need these by? And how many did you want?"

"Two days? Is that too soon, for three dozen?"

Tessa shook her head. "No, that's perfect. You can pick them up any time then, we're open from 7:00 am-6:00 pm."

"Will you be here?" he asked, a little shyly.

Tessa checked her watch. "I only work in the mornings, until one. But I'll be here until then. You said you were going to the Olympics?"

"Well, yeah. Skating. Do you want me to pay now?"

"No, you pay when you get them."

"Sounds good. See you in two days, Tessa."

It wasn't until after he'd gone that she realized he knew her name and she'd never gotten his. 

* * *

 

He came back as promised two days later, with a tall, dark-haired woman. His sister? His mother? His  _girlfriend?_ She was admittedly a little disappointed.

"Welcome back to the Bake Room. Let me just get your cupcakes," Tessa said. 

She hurried into the back room. As she wove through the shells, she could hear the faint sounds of conversation coming from the main shop.

"So that was the girl you've been moping after?" the woman asked. She had a faint accent (British? French?) and seemed to be less like a loving mother and more like a strict teacher.

"Don't be silly, Marie, I haven't been moping after her."

"Really? Then explain to me why you flubbed the last seven triples that you attempted, and tripped on a simple Mohawk? I'd have to be a blind woman to not see that you're pining after this girl..."

Tessa emerged from the back, trying to pretend that she hadn't overheard their conversation. "Here you are, three dozen Canada cupcakes. Do they look okay to you? Is there anything you want me to add or redo?"

"No, they look perfect, thank you. How much will these be?"

"You're not paying," Tessa said, making a split-second decision. 

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I'm paying."

"I'd never hear the end of it if I made an Olympic skater pay for his cupcakes... these are on the house. Honestly," Tessa told him. The woman, Marie, raised her eyebrows. "Good luck at the Olympics."

The guy flushed. "Are you sure? I'm totally willing to pay, you don't need to do this. For real."

"Just take your cupcakes and go," Tessa laughed. He took the stack of cupcakes and gave her a smile.

"Thank you," he told her.

She smiled. "It's no big deal. Have fun in Pyeongchang."

They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, then Marie threw up her hands with a sigh.

"Just get her number already, Scott Moir."

And he did.


	11. On This Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry in advance for the feels :)
> 
> AU

February 17, 2018

Scott finished his program with a flourish.

The applause washed over him as the final strains Swan Lake of music ended. 

It had been one of the best skates of his life- there'd been few, if any mistakes. And he was in the perfect position for winning a gold- he'd only been a few points behind first place going into the free. 

He should be elated.

But, instead, Scott felt a wave of sadness wash over him, and fell to his knees on the ice. He felt moisture dripping down his face, and reached up to brush it away. The arena was full of cheering fans, but their applause barely registered in Scott's ears. 

 It was ironic, that he'd be here, on the ice in Pyeongchang, on today of all days. 

Scott half-expected Tessa to be at his side, urging him to stand, teasing him for crying. But she wasn't there.

He'd never felt so alone.

Maybe that was because he _was_ alone. And it was all his fault.

* * *

_February 17, 2011_

_The whole world was awash in a pale yellow glow. The sun was just beginning to rise over the silhouettes. There were barely any cars on the road. It was so quiet that it_ _seemed like Scott and Tessa were the only people in who were awake._

_Scott slung his bag into his car, then slammed the trunk closed. He turned to Tessa._

_"All ready?" he asked her. "Got everything? Costume, skates?"_

_"You're asking me?" Tessa replied, raising her eyebrows. "I could ask you the same thing. Are you sure that you have your skates?"_

_"I definitely have my skates," Scott said, rolling his eyes. "You have so little faith in me, Tess."_

_"Just making sure. Let's go, we're going to miss our flight."_

_Scott slid into the driver's seat, while Tessa settled into the passenger's seat. As soon as they were on the road, Tessa plugged in her phone. "What do you want to listen to?"_

_"None of your nonsense. My music's way better than yours," Scott told her. "We're listening to my playlist this time."_

_Tessa gave him a pout. "You always pick the music."_

_"Because I always drive."_

_"Whatever," Tessa said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed Scott's phone and started to scroll through his music._

_A song started playing through the speakers. Scott immediately groaned. "I thought we were using my phone!" he complained, shooting Tessa look. "You said that we were."_

_Tessa just stuck out her tongue. "We are. You have a classical playlist, remember?"_

_"There's no way that we're listening to Swan Lake. We listen to it all the time! Besides, I need to get pumped for competition, not fall asleep when I get there," Scott protested. Tessa kept laughing._

_He reached over playfully. "Give me that phone."_

_"No, we're already listening to it! If we don't get the whole way through, I'll have it stuck in my head!" Tessa squealed as Scott started tickling her. "Scott, come on!"_

_"Give me the phone!" Scott said, poking her, grinning. She was all curled up in her seat, phone held way behind her, out of Scott's reach. She looked so ridiculous in her reindeer pajama pants and coat that he couldn't help but laugh._

_She relaxed as he stopped tickling her._

_"You're funny, T," he told her._

_Tessa laughed up at him. "Thanks."_

_"But that's not going to stop me from tickling you!" he exclaimed, and resumed his attack._

_"Scott!" Tessa giggled. "Come on, Scott!"_

_He didn't. He kept tickling her. Tessa was laughing so hard that she ways almost breathless._

_"Scott, stop," she said, still grinning. Then, she gasped._ _"Scott,_ **stop**!"

_He wrenched his gaze away from Tessa just in time to see the bright headlights of a semi-truck heading straight toward them._

_His last thought was of Tessa before his world went dark._

_He woke up hours later, to see his mother leaning over him. He was in a white, stark hospital bed. He could hear the machines beeping behind him, vaguely registering the searching pain in his leg._

_"Thank god," she breathed._

_"Mom?"_

_"I'm so glad that you're okay," she sobbed, hugging him. "I was so worried."_

_Scott blinked. His mom pulled away, tears staining her face._

_"Mom, where's Tessa?"_

* * *

 Scott sat in the kiss-and-cry, numbly staring at the score screen. He didn't register anything that his coach was saying, or even the loud cheers from the crowd. He couldn't process what was happening.

The only thing he could think was-

_Tessa should be here._

"The scores please."

He pulled his gaze from the screen and stared out at the audience, which had fallen silent.

And then the scores appeared, and the ice rink erupted once again in loud cheers. 

"Scott Moir is currently in... first place."

_First place._

Scott buried his face in his hands as his coaches screamed and yelled around him. 

"You've done it! You've won!"

_No, I haven't,_ Scott thought bitterly, as tears dripped down his face. How could he have won, when he was alone? 

"You deserve this," Brian Orser told him, wrapping his arms around Scott.

Scott shook his head and pulled away. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve a gold medal. The only real thing he'd done to win this medal was kill his best friend. 

That was no victory.

"Tessa would be so proud," Brian continued. 

* * *

 Scott walked backstage in a haze, barely registering the congratulations that his fellow skaters were giving him. Everything was foggy. He just wanted to go home. He didn't want to be here anymore.

Before, he thought he'd wanted to go to these Olympics. To win, for Tessa.

But nothing had prepared him for after the skate. After the adrenaline of competition ended, Scott just felt empty. He wasn't happy. He thought he'd be elated, fulfilled...

_Anything._

Instead, he felt like retreating into his room. He didn't want to come out until the Olympics were over.

He collapsed into a chair backstage, burying his face in his hands once more.

Maybe, if he just hid here, they wouldn't make him go to the flower ceremony.

He felt an hand on his back.

"Leave me alone," he grumbled. 

"Scott."

He slowly sat upright, coming face-to-face with...

Tessa's mother. Kate. 

"Kate," he choked out. She wordlessly folded him into an embrace.

"Shh. I know."

"I don't deserve this. I shouldn't be here, I don't belong on this podium. I never should have come here," Scott said, voice muffled by Kate's sweater. 

"Don't you ever say that," Kate told him sternly, pulling away. She held him at an arm's length away. "You deserve every second of this happiness. Don't ever doubt that for a second, Scott Moir."

"It doesn't feel right. Without her."

A tear sparkled in Kate's eye. "She would be so proud of you, Scott. I know that. I know that, wherever she is, she wants you to be happy."

"It's hard to be happy."

"Sweetie, I know."

Scott sat there, staring at his hands. Then, he looked back up at Kate. "I just miss her so much."

 "I miss her, too."

They sat there for a few minutes, until an announcement broke the silence. Kate slowly got up and looked down at Scott.

"Alright, Scott, enough crying. Go celebrate," Kate told him sternly. "Man up and get out there. You've earned it."

She held out a hand, pulled him out of his chair, and pushed him in the direction of the door.

"Now, go."

And he did. 

But even standing on the podium, he never forgot Tessa.


	12. The Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tessa and scott make an important announcement...

They'd been waiting months to make this announcement. 

Scott was honestly relieved that he and Tessa could finally tell the world what had been weighing on their minds, instead of hiding it from their fans. But at the same time, he knew his life was about to change.

Nothing would ever be the same.

They were sitting on the couch in Tessa's apartment. Mostly because her apartment was way cleaner than Scott's was. A camera seemed to stare at them from its perch on a tripod, almost impatiently.

Scott couldn't bring himself to be the one to start recording.

Tessa finally looked at him.

"Ready?"

He took a deep breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."

She got up and started the camera. Its little green light shined back at Scott as she returned to the couch. Wordlessly, she slipped her hand inside his.

"Hi guys. I'm guessing you probably know who we are, if you're watching this. But, I'm Tessa Virtue," Tessa said with her usual poise. But even Scott could tell that she was reluctant to make this video.

"And I'm Scott Moir."

"You've probably been expecting this kind of video for a long time," Tessa began, swallowing. "For more than twenty years, we've skated together as competitive ice dancers in an unbelievable partnership."

"We've been to countless countries, practiced countless hours, and made countless friends," Scott continued. "We've gone to the Olympics, and came back from injury. We've conquered everything life's thrown our way."

He gave Tessa a little smile, which she returned. 

"But through everything, we've done things together, as business partners, as friends. Best friends, even," Tessa said. "It's hard to imagine  _not_ doing things together all the time. I've known Scott for over two thirds of my life."

They paused. 

Scott cleared his throat. "When we were little, we had no idea how far we'd go together. I don't think, as a nine-year-old, I could have even pictured myself at thirty-one. I wouldn't even be able to imagine what being an adult was like."

"It's been an incredible journey. I'm so grateful to have had the chance to skate with such an amazing, compassionate, caring guy like you, Scott," Tessa told him, turning to face him. She squeezed his hand.

"And I wouldn't have wanted any other partner than you, Tessa. You are so talented, witty, and brave."

Tessa turned back to the camera.

"But all good things must eventually come to an end. Now that the Thank You Canada Tour is over, we decided that it's time to make this video. Today, Scott and I are officially announcing our retirement from competitive ice dancing. It's time to turn to a new chapter in our lives. While this has been an amazing journey, we're ready to move on and face the next challenge that life throws our way."

Scott released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Now that the hard part's over, we're also announcing our future plans. You first, T."

Tessa broke out into a huge smile. "I'm excited to announce that I will be joining the CBC commentary in their future broadcasts of the ice dancing competitions. I'm looking forward to watching the competition and spreading awareness about the sport on the other side of the rink."

Scott nodded appreciatively. "I plan on coaching some ice skaters. Nothing major, just basic skills. But I'm excited to pass on some tips for the future generation of competitors as they continue to grow. Maybe sometime I'll move up to the senior level- but not when people I've competed against are still in the circuit."

"That would be awkward," Tessa laughed. "Imagine coaching Piper and Paul."

"Absolutely not," Scott agreed with a grin. "They're way beyond my coaching abilities. I'm going to wait and see if any little dancers catch my eye. But that won't be for a while. For now, we'll see what happens next."

"So, there's that. Now you know what we're planning for the next year or so. Don't worry, we're still sticking around."

"Also, in the next few months, we plan on posting videos of our own. Even though we may not be business partners, we intend to still commit ourselves to this relationship and each other, no matter where life takes us. So, we're going to make our own YouTube channel so that you guys can keep up with our busy lifestyle."

"For a long time, you guys have speculated about our relationship status."

"While we're not dating... at the moment, neither of us plan on ruling out that possibility. I definitely can't imagine being this close to anyone else. But we'll see- right now, we're just trying to figure out what our lives mean outside of competition."

"We'll get back to you when we do figure that out," Scott laughed. 

"But keep your eyes on this channel. We have lots of cool things planned for videos and such, featuring plenty of people you'll enjoy seeing, and information that you wouldn't get elsewhere. You can also find us on various social media platforms- we'll provide the links in the description below."

"Our retirement may mean we're leaving competitive ice dance, but that doesn't mean that we're saying goodbye to you or each other," Scott added.

"We'll see you soon."


	13. Waiting For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the classic "scott and tessa meet after not seeing each other"

Seven years. After seven goddamn years without seeing her best friend, she encountered him  _now,_ of all places. In an ice cream store, in the  _United States._

Tessa cursed her luck. How did she even get herself in this position? Out of all of the ice cream parlors that he could have chosen in Boston, he chose Tessa's favorite. It was almost like he was trying to tempt fate. 

And it was impossible to pretend that they hadn't seen each other, either. She wasn't just a face in the crowd here- she worked there now. It was just a side job. She'd mainly gotten it to help out the owner. She'd befriended Candice around the twentieth time she'd shown up for ice cream. They'd bonded over their mutual chocolate obsession. When one of the employees quit, Candice begged Tessa to help her out. Just until she found a replacement. 

It was only week one of Tessa's run as an ice cream server. And of  _course,_ her old ice skating partner just  _had_ to show up now.

She only faltered a little when she looked up from the register to come face-to-face with Scott Moir. She blinked, swallowed, and cleared her throat.

"What can I get you today?" she asked, plastering a bright smile onto her face.

"Um-" Scott stuttered, eyes wide. "Can I get a scoop of birthday cake, in a dish, with a cone on top?"

Tessa couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, but she jotted his order down in neat handwriting anyway. It wasn't his usual order. "Sure. Anything else?"

"And a scoop of coffee, in a cone."

"Is that it?" Tessa asked.

"Yeah."

Tessa tore the piece of paper off her writing pad and walked over to the ice cream flavors, starting to scoop. 

"So the great Tessa Virtue works at an ice cream parlor now?" Scott finally said, as she dug into the birthday cake container. 

"It's just for a few more days. I'm helping out a friend," Tessa said, feeling the need to explain. "It's not that bad, really. It's kind of fun."

She quickly finished scooping the coffee ice cream and handed Scott the dish of birthday cake and the cone. "Here you go. Enjoy your night!" she told him. She turned to the next customer.

"Wait, Tess, can we... can we talk?"

"Daddy!" a voice interrupted. 

Scott turned with a huge smile on his face. "Hey, baby!" he exclaimed. "Here's your birthday cake, as promised."

Tessa blinked as he handed the ice cream to a little girl, who was barely tall enough for Tessa to see over the counter. 

This girl was Scott's  _daughter?_

He noticed Tessa's expression. "Sweetie, why don't you go back to the table? I'll be over in a minute," he said, kneeling down to ruffle the girl's hair. 

"Okay!" the girl chirped. 

When she'd bounced back to a table in the corner, Scott turned to Tessa. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you. A- a lot's changed. Since... since we-"

He stopped. 'Broke up' wasn't quite right. They were never dating. But there were no other words to explain the way that their relationship had ended. And it had ended. Quite badly. 

Tessa swallowed. "You don't need to apologize, Scott. You moved on. That's no reason to be sorry."

"I should have called. Texted. Something. It felt wrong, to not talk to you."

The customer behind him cleared their throat impatiently, jerking Tessa back to the present. 

"Listen, we'll talk soon, okay? Are you still in Boston tomorrow?" Tessa asked. Scott nodded. "Noon sound okay? In the park, southeast entrance?"

"Sure. Can I-" he started to ask, with a glance in his daughter's direction. 

"You can bring her," Tessa reassured him. 

* * *

 

The next day, Tessa slipped inside the park's southeast entrance. She was a minute late, but Scott probably wouldn't mind. Her morning phone call with her mom had gone longer than she'd anticipated.

Immediately, she spotted Scott sitting on the bench. His blonde-haired daughter sat beside him, swinging her legs happily. Scott looked up as Tessa approached.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

The girl gave Tessa a bright smile. Just as big as her father's. 

Scott seemed flustered as Tessa joined them on the bench. "Um, Tess, meet my daughter Emma. Emma this is my friend, Tessa."

"Hi!" Emma said, with a wave. 

"Emma, why don't you go play on that playground over there?" Scott said after a few moments of silence. "Stay in sight, please!" 

Scott and Tessa watched Emma as she ran happily to the playground, where a few other children were already playing. 

"She's adorable," Tessa said. "You must love her very much. How old is she?"

"She's four. She's the light of my life," Scott told Tessa proudly.

Tessa took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you. When she was born. And for all the years afterward. I've been a horrible friend, Scott," she confessed, unable to keep her voice from shaking. "I'm so sorry."

Scott shook his head. "It's not all on you, Tess. We both lost ourselves after we retired. I guess we both hadn't thought about what would happen after we didn't have skating to keep us together anymore."

"I never should have let us fall apart like that," Tessa insisted. "I- I missed you, Scott. I thought about calling so many times, but it never... it never seemed right."

"You should have called. I missed you so much, Tessa. I would have picked up the phone in a heartbeat," Scott said emphatically. "I felt so empty for a long time. I know now why."

Tessa swallowed. "I felt like that too."

Scott's head jerked up at a scream from the playground- but it was just Emma, squealing in delight as a nice older lady pushed her higher and higher on the swing set. 

"Can I ask...?"

"I met her mother a year after you left Montreal," Scott said, answering Tessa's unfinished question. "We were just friends, at first. She was coaching figure skating at the same time I was coaching hockey."

"Her name was Eliza. She was amazing, talented, patient with the kids... Over time, I guess we realized that we had something more than friendship," he continued, staring at Emma on the playground.

"We broke up after a year of dating, but we stayed close friends. She was the one who broke up with me. I didn't understand it at first. She just said I wasn't ready. I thought I was. I was so sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her... then, a month later, she called me and told me she was pregnant. I promised her I'd be a part of Emma's life. I'm glad I did. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Where is she now?" Tessa asked quietly. 

"She... she got sick. Cancer."

"I'm so sorry. How long?"

"Two years ago," Scott said shakily. He took a deep breath. "She made her peace with it. She wrote a letter to me, before she died. Somehow, she knew everything. Even things I didn't know about myself. That letter... it really reminded me what matters."

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

Scott turned to Tessa. "She was. She told me why she broke up with me."

Tessa stayed quiet, somehow sensing that this was something Scott needed to talk about. 

"She thought that there was something holding me back from our relationship. She said that my heart wasn't hers to take. I didn't know what she meant, at first. But now... I think I know what she meant."

Tessa held her breath, her heart pounding.

"I know what she meant now. I was holding myself back because... because she wasn't you. She was great, but she was never going to compare to you. In the back of my mind, I had always imagined myself marrying  _you,_ having kids with  _you,_ growing old with  _you._ Because I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since I was nine and you were seven. It's always been you."

"Scott-" Tessa said breathlessly.

Before she could even think, Scott's lips were on hers. 

They'd kissed before, but never like this. This kiss was tender, sweet, and comforting. He was so unbelievably gentle as he held Tessa in his arms. One hand  was wrapped around Tessa's waist- the other was in her hair.

She'd never realized how much she'd missed his smell, his touch... everything. It had been seven years since they'd touched like this. It didn't feel awkward, like she thought it would have. 

It felt like coming home. 

 They were forced to stop when Scott's hand got stuck in Tessa's hair. 

"I love you, too," Tessa told him, laughing, as Scott tried to remove himself from Tessa's increasingly tangled hair. 

"I would kiss you again, but my hand is still stuck," Scott told her with an embarrassed smile. 


	14. One Step at a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vancouver 2010.

If someone had told Tessa a year ago that she'd spend her Olympics in excruciating pain, she would have laughed in their face. She would have told them it was impossible- her legs were healed. The surgery had relieved her compartment syndrome. That part of her life was over. 

At least, that's what she would have thought.

But now, sitting on her floor in the Olympic Village, the pain was all too real for Tessa. She'd just wanted a glass of water. The kitchen was only, what, ten feet away? Maybe fifteen? And yet, that simple walk to get  _a glass of water_ turned into a huge ordeal. She didn't even make it back to her bedroom before collapsing on the ground, smashing her glass in the process.

She felt so  _helpless_ there on the floor, surrounded by water and broken glass. How ironic. An Olympic athlete unable to get a glass of water. 

If only Meryl and Charlie could see her now, Tessa thought bitterly. They'd probably laugh and her and assume, probably rightly so, that the gold was theirs. After all, how could she possibly skate a winning program when she couldn't even walk fifteen feet in slippers?

Her decision to go to the Olympics seemed so naive and foolish now that she was here. Everyone in the Olympic Village was at the top of their game- the best in their countries. A five-year-old could outrun Tessa right now. 

Tessa felt moisture drip onto her leg and realized with a jolt that she was crying. She furiously wiped away her tears, feeling even more pathetic by the minute. She was an Olympian. There were hundreds of people who would give a leg and an arm to be in her shoes, and she was sitting here commiserating about her situation. 

Steeling herself, Tessa stood, cautiously treading around the glass surrounding her, and flopped down on the couch. Well, at least she wasn't sitting in a puddle of water anymore. After a few minutes, the dull throbbing in her legs faded again and she got up to get a rag and a broom.

She continued that way for at least twenty more minutes, standing for two to four minutes at a time, slowly chipping away at the mess on the floor until it was finally all cleaned up. By then, the pain had gotten unbearable, even with the rests she was taking. 

Tessa knew she could have called someone. Housekeeping, probably. Even Scott would have helped her with the glass. 

But she refused to stoop to that level. She was a grown up. She could handle herself. She was fine- it was just stress of the Olympics, she told herself. And she didn't need some random lady coming in and judging her for needing help cleaning up a spill.

Her phone rang. Scott. 

She knew by the ringtone- they'd set it as a joke once. But it was all the way across the room. 

Tessa got up and shuffled as quickly as she could to the phone. Knife-like pains shot through her calf and she collapsed on the ground, feeling a sob rise in her chest. Scott's ringtone faded, unanswered on the table just a few feet away.

She curled up on the cool tile floor and tried to will the pain. She squeezed her eyes tightly together, trying to find some refuge in the darkness, feeling hot tears run down her cheeks. 

That was how Scott found her, ten minutes later.

"Tessa?" he called out, stepping inside her room. 

She cursed at him silently. If only he was less caring. She turned away from him, even as he knelt on the kitchen floor next to her.

"T, what's wrong?" he asked her gently. "Look at me."

She knew that if she opened her mouth, she would cry. She shook her head. 

Scott sighed deeply. "Oh, Tessa."

He folded her into his arms. She relaxed almost unwillingly in his comforting, warm embrace, head tucked into his chest. He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

"I'm sorry, Tessa. I'm sorry that you have to go through this," he said softly, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sorry."

Tessa just burrowed deeper into him. Maybe, she thought wistfully, if they stayed like this, the pain would go away. 

She would stay here with Scott forever if she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> opinions?
> 
> what do you want to see next? comment below!


	15. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka what i hope happened in pyeongchang

The night after her short dance, Tessa stepped into the elevator in the Olympic Village. After double-checking a text she'd been sent, Tessa pressed the button for the fourth floor.

 After stopping several times to let people on and off, the elevator finally reached the fourth floor.

She slowed down to read the names on the doors as she moved down the hallway, glancing left and right. She was almost at the end of the hallway when she found what she'd been looking for. 

'VANESSA MORGAN & GABRIELLA PAPADAKIS, FRA'

Tessa took a deep breath and knocked. After a few seconds, the door opened.

* * *

 As much as she might have tried to hide it, Tessa could tell that Gabriella hadn't expected her to show at up her door. Tessa didn't blame her. They were, after all, bitter rivals. And competition wasn't over. Not yet. 

But Gabi didn't look much like a rival now, standing there, eyes rimmed with red, wearing fox socks. She just looked like a devastated young girl. 

"Can I come in?" Tessa asked awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. 

Gabi didn't say anything, but she opened the door wider, stepping aside to allow room for Tessa to walk in. Vanessa wasn't there. 

The room was neat. At least, one side of the room was neat. The only thing out of place was the now-famous green, sparkly costume balled up in the corner on the side near the window. That was probably Gabi's side of the room. 

Tessa turned once Gabi had closed the door. "I know this is out-of-the-ordinary. I'm aware of that. And I know we're still competing. But..."

She fiddled with the tassels on her Canada scarf. "But what you went through today was something I wouldn't have wished on anyone. Being exposed like that... it's anybody's worst nightmare."

Gabi sat down on her bed. "You're right, it was my worst nightmare," she said, a little stiffly. "Why are you here? To make fun of me?"

Tessa shook her head emphatically. "Absolutely not. I guess... well, I guess I came here for you. To be whatever you need me to be. Someone to rant to, a shoulder to cry on. Anything. I know what it's like, to have a rough Games."

The younger girl took a shaky breath. "I just want... I want the media to stop."

Tessa tentatively sat next to Gabi. "Oh, Gabi."

"It is awful. They're like... like birds. Evil birds. They're  _entertained,"_ Gabi said, looking over at Tessa, eyes full of pain. 

"Vultures?" Tessa supplied. 

"I suppose, yes."

"The media is its own beast altogether," Tessa agreed. "It's rough. I won't disagree with that."

"It's bad enough. They just make it even worse," Gabi told her, twisting her hands together. "It's humiliating. I feel like... like an animal in the zoo."

"They don't understand what it's like. To train your whole life for this."

Gabi nodded. Tessa thought she could see moisture pooling in Gabi's brown eyes. 

"It is already hard to be taken seriously," Gabi said quietly, burying her face in her hands. "My skating skills, our age, our music choices... and now this. All I do is bring us down. Guillaume deserves a better partner. They think I don't hear them when they say that, but maybe it's true. I am not good enough for him. How can he even look at me, when I just make a spectacle of myself?"

Tessa shook her head instantly. "You and Guillaume are perfect together. Never believe your haters for a second, Gabi. There's no one else who I can imagine beside Guillaume. Can you? You two were born to skate together. And you've grown so much. They should be bowing down to you, not making fun of you."

"They will just hope that my dress falls down again tomorrow, so that they can get more media," Gabi said bitterly, wiping away the tear that had started running down her face. 

Tessa gripped Gabi's shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "There's nothing you can do about the media. There's nothing you can do about your dress. You just have to trust what you've trained for."

"It is hard to trust right now."

"I know. But you just have to go out there and give them a show they'll never forget. Dress or no dress. This is your moment, Gabi. You can show them who you really are now. They know you're not perfect. You know you're not perfect. And that's okay. You can be flawed. You can make mistakes. What matters is what you do after."

Gabi shook her head. She was really crying now, tears slipping silently down her face. 

"Listen, Gabi. You are so special. No matter what happens tomorrow, if you go out there and skate your best, you'll already have won. Just because you went out there. You'll prove the media wrong. I can promise you that."

Tessa wrapped Gabi into a hug. She could feel the smaller girl shaking with quiet sobs, but after a few seconds, she felt Gabi relax into the embrace. 

She didn't know how long it was before Gabi pulled away. 

"Good?"

Gabi wiped the tears off her face and took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Chin up, Gabi. You'll be great."

The French girl gave a little smile. "You probably have a celebration to get back to."

That was Tessa's cue to leave. "More like sleep, but they're almost same thing, right?" she commented with a laugh, standing up. 

"Wait," Gabi said just as Tessa was about to close the door. "Thank you. I will not forget tonight. No matter what will happen tomorrow."

"Me, too.  _Bonne nuit,_ Gabi."

"Goodnight, Tessa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this. i really hope that this happened- i feel like tessa would have been sympathetic in real life, since she's a girl, too. 
> 
> suggestions?


	16. Canned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an unusual phenomenon occurs. i promise i'm not sponsored, it was a prompt :)

Four hours into Scott's drive to London, the snow started. At first, there were only a few light flurries in the air. Scott didn't mind that- it was actually pretty calming, to see the snow. But, after a half-hour, the flurries turned into more of a blizzard. He could barely see the headlights of the car in front of him, the snow was falling so quickly.

And then, things got even worse when he felt his car suddenly jolt. He continued driving for ten more minutes, but the car continued to clunk. Then, smoke started coming out of the hood. 

He pulled into the nearest rest stop parking lot, slamming his fist on the steering wheel. He didn't have time for this. He'd just gotten a call that his dad's condition was deteriorating. 

The car putt-putted off the highway and then, with one last groan, the car stuttered into silence. 

"Dammit!" Scott cursed.

He wrenched open the door and stormed inside, barely even registering the heavy clumps of snow that continued to fall around him. 

After standing in the bathroom for a solid five minutes, watching the water run down the drain, Scott finally went back out into the main area of the rest stop. 

The rest stop was nowhere near as crowded as it usually was. Most people hadn't dared to brave the increasingly awful weather. There was one person running the convenience store, and one person managing the lone Starbucks. A group of truckers sat around one table, and two other people were browsing the shelves of snacks at the store.  

Scott ran a hand through his hair and groaned. He needed something to drink. Anything, really, to keep him awake. But he hated coffee. 

He went to the refrigerator section, grabbed the first can of Coke he saw, and then went to the checkout counter. There were two people in front of him- the guy paying had a boatload of crackers, chips, and candy. Scott let out an exasperated huff. 

The woman in front of him turned. "Yeah, it's going to be a while," she said, rolling her eyes. 

Scott shook his head frustratedly. "I can tell." 

There was a beat of awkward silence, in which Scott absentmindedly turned over the can in his hand. It was a Coke- one of the ones with the names on it. 

 

"So you're team Coke?" the woman asked.

Scott nodded. 

"What's on yours?" she asked.

He turned it over in his hand. "Share a Coke with Tessa. I never know anyone with the names on these. I guess my friend's names aren't the sort of names that they put on these," he said, holding it up with a shrug.

"Actually, my name's Tessa."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "You're joking."

"Nope, not joking," she said, sticking out her hand. "Tessa Virtue."

"Scott. Scott Moir. I'm a little surprised at this luck."

The woman, Tessa, laughed. "I am, too. I've never seen my name on a Coke can before. I guess it's a first for both of us. You've never known anyone with their name on a Coke can, I've never seen mine on one."

Despite how angry he was about his car, Scott smiled. 

Tessa stepped up to pay for the chocolate muffin she'd been holding. She turned back to Scott. "Where're you headed?"

"London. To see my dad. He's not doing so well, but my car's broken down, so, I guess I'm stuck here for a while."

Tessa turned from the cash register. "Well, luck seems to be on your side, Mr. Moir. I happen to be heading there as well. I'd be happy to give you a ride."

Scott instantly shook his head. "I couldn't impose. Really. Besides, I'm sure one of those trucker guys knows how to fix a car."

She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe, but not in this storm. Have you seen the weather reports? It's getting really intense out there. Even if they could, they wouldn't want to go out in a blizzard to fix someone's car."

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

Tessa rolled her eyes. "Let me help you out. I'm heading out right after this."

"I wouldn't want to be responsible if you got into an accident."

"I've got snow chains. And I've been driving in blizzards since I was a teenager. I'll be fine. And, I think you need to get to London as soon as you can. It seems important," Tessa said.

Scott sighed as he dug out the change for his Coke. Once he'd finished paying, he turned to Tessa, who was still waiting expectantly.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll pay you back."

"That won't be necessary. We just need to share that drink," Tessa said with a wink. 

Scott rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Come on, Scott Moir. Let's go."


	17. Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> our favorite duo holding hands... hopefully i'm not boring you to death with these whoops

The first time Scott held Tessa's hand, he was nine.

He'd never really held hands with a girl before. Just his mom, walking through parking lots and across streets. And maybe in school, when they were forced to hold hands for some circle game or another. 

For sure, his mom was making him do this tryout with Tessa, but this was really the first time when he'd held a girl's hand without being forced to. This was something he was actually okay with. Something that wasn't just a dumb school game. 

Her hand was tiny in his. She was shorter than him, too. He was almost afraid to hold her hand. What if she didn't like him? What if his hands were super sweaty? Then she'd think he was gross. And he wasn't gross.

Was he gross? Scott tried to subtly sniff his armpits.

They were just skating in circles right now, around and around the familiar rink. Slowly at first. Then, they started to pick up speed and Scott had to grip Tessa's hand closer to make sure that they stayed together. 

They were mainly focused on their feet and not tripping. 

He was afraid, a little. Not of skating with Tessa, a practical stranger.

It was more like, he was afraid that he would hurt her. Her hand seemed so small and fragile in his. He didn't want to hold her hand any harder. She seemed so delicate, so  _beyond_ him. She was even a little better than him. And she was only seven.

For years, Scott's mom had always told him girls were better than boys. 

He'd always wholeheartedly protested.

But now, holding onto Tessa Virtue's hand, he felt like he finally understood what his mom meant. 

* * *

They held hands tightly as they prepared to step onto the ice for their first Junior competition. 

Scott could feel Tessa bouncing up and down beside him, and squeezed her hand in an attempt to get her to calm down.

Holding her hand had become familiar now, after years of training together. It was easy to fall into place beside Tessa and hold her hand now. It felt natural. Like they'd been doing it forever. 

But now, as he held her hand, it felt different. 

They were serious competitors now, and teenagers. Nothing would be the same after this. Competitions would only continue to get more serious, the results would matter more. It wasn't going to be easy. These people were serious. 

In a way, Scott felt like this would be the last time they'd hold hands before their lives started to change. 

After this, they wouldn't just be kids having fun and ice dancing together. They'd be official international ice dancers. There was a lot of baggage to that. Would they even be able to have fun like before, when they competed as Juniors? Would she even want to skate after this?

All these thoughts flew through Scott's mind. 

He held her hand tighter. 

He didn't want to let go. Not of this. He didn't want to stop standing beside her, holding her hand. He didn't want it to stop feeling like this. Like coming home.

* * *

 

When Tessa told him about the pain growing in her legs, all Scott could do was just sit there.

It felt like there was nothing he could say to her that would help. How could he? He couldn't take away her pain. He couldn't bear the load with her. He felt so  _helpless._ There wasn't even anything he could do.

And he blamed himself.

It was his fault. She wouldn't be in this much pain if they were to just stop skating. If they just hadn't moved to new coaches, if he hadn't pushed her so hard, if he'd just  _realized_ what was happening. Maybe he could have stopped it. Maybe they would have been able to catch the compartment syndrome quicker. Maybe they could have trained around it. Trained less, even.

Winning competitions didn't seem worth all of this. The prizes, the medals... none of them were worth seeing Tessa in pain. Seeing her cry. Seeing her hurt, because of him. 

But he didn't know how to tell her, how to apologize. How could he find the words to beg for her forgiveness? This was his fault. She probably already hated him for this. He didn't want her to push him away. 

He hated that this was happening to her. She didn't deserve this. She'd already given up so much for him, for their skating. And now she was in pain. 

Scott slipped his hand into hers, and made her a silent promise, to always be there to hold her hand.

* * *

 

The first time Scott really let go of her hand, he cursed himself for it.

Before, they'd always parted knowing that they'd be back together soon. There was never uncertainty. They always knew. They knew they'd see each other in practice the next day, or the next week.

But now, Scott didn't know when he'd see her again. He didn't know if he'd ever get to hold her hand again, or skate beside her again. 

And it was his fault.

He'd promised he'd stay with her through her surgeries. He'd told himself he'd be there. But here he was, sitting alone in his apartment. It had been more than four weeks since he'd talked to Tessa, since he'd held her hand.

He never thought this would happen- he'd never thought he'd miss holding someone's hand so badly.

But he did. He missed Tessa. He missed everything about her- her smell, her hair, her smile. 

Scott wrenched himself out of his self-pity and stood up from the couch. He dialed her number with his heart in his throat, not knowing what she'd say when she picked up. Would she be mad? Would she he happy to hear from him? Was she even going to be the same Tessa?

Either way, he  _would_ hold her hand again. No matter how long it took.

And when he did, he would never let go.

* * *

 

As they took their bows in Pyeongchang, Scott couldn't help but think that this would be their last time holding hands in competition again. 

But now, he was ready. 

It was going to be hard to let go of this life that he'd made with Tessa. They'd been doing this for over twenty years. Scott had more time holding hands with Tessa than anyone else.They'd been holding hands longer than they hadn't.

And even though he knew that he wouldn't need to hold her hand anymore after this, the thought didn't scare him.

Because now he was old enough to understand that he didn't need ice skating to keep holding Tessa's hand.

After all, twenty years of friendship didn't just go away because their competitive ice skating years were over. They might be done with holding hands for the judges, but now they were free to just  _hold hands._ No expectations, no competitions. Just Scott and Tessa. 

The future seemed endless.  Something far more than ice skating would keep them together. 

So, as he exchanged smiles with Tessa on the ice, he let go. 

 

 


	18. The Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the team event in pyeongchang goes very differently.

The last day of the team event was here. The rink was gradually filling with audience members. The noise level, once peaceful, had risen to a low murmur. It just added to Tessa's excitement. She desperately wanted Canada to win.

But, despite that, there was nothing she could do about it. She'd participated in the short program only, getting second. She had kind of expected to lose to Evgenia. 

She was admittedly a little bitter about what happened after she skated- although, it wasn't really anybody's fault. Someone ran into her when she was exiting the rink and pushed her down a tiny set of stairs. She'd been in pain the rest of the night- at first, she'd thought it was just a bruise from the fall. But when it kept hurting when she walked, she knew something was wrong. 

It was hard, sitting on the sidelines, unable to do anything but cheer on her teammates as they skated for gold. Tessa desperately wanted to be out there, on the ice. At least she'd have a little bit of control over the outcome of these next programs. But instead, she was stuck off the ice. And she would remain there for the singles event, too.

This was  _not_ how she planned to spend her Olympic games. All those practices, all those competitions, all that  _time_ she'd spent preparing for these games was wasted. She only skated her short program, and would not skate any other programs. 

Tessa never thought the team event would become her only chance to win gold. And to think, this could be her last Olympics. She still hadn't decided if she wanted to retire after this. Sochi had been fine and great, but she'd ended up losing to Adelina. And now she wouldn't even get the chance to go head-to-head in the women's event.

And it wasn't like Canada was a shoe-in for team gold, either.

There were four teams battling it out for gold. 

Russia, of course, with their talented ladies and dancers, was definitely a danger. 

And the United States had an all-around solid team, with the Shibutanis as contenders in dance, Nathan Chen as a probable win in the men's, and their good pairs team. 

But then there was also France. They had, of course, the world-record breaking duo of Papadakis and Cizeron, and then they had Vanessa James and Morgan Cipres. And they had Scott Moir, the talented and highly adored men's skater.

No, this wouldn't be easy.

* * *

 Tessa could barely breathe throughout the entire team event. She sat in the Canada booth, her hands clasped together so tightly that she stopped feeling them after a while. Beside her, Meagan and Eric watched the programs like hawks, eyes narrowed. Every once and a while, they would shout and clap in delight as one of their team members performed an especially good move.

Kaetlyn placed third in the free, just barely. Tessa thought that would happen- and even she herself wouldn't have done much better. Second, maybe. 

After the women, Canada was still in first. 

Then, the men went. 

Scott Moir, from France, went first. 

Tessa couldn't deny that the man had style. She loved both his short and free programs. He had amazing character and energy on the ice. Plus, he was easy on the eyes, too. In another world, perhaps she could picture herself skating with a guy like Scott. His jumps were impressively clean, even when he landed some of his quads. 

And when he took his bows, Tessa could have sworn that he winked at her. 

Patrick was going to have some tough competition. 

They had to wait until almost the end of the men's programs to see how Patrick's skate would stack up against Scott's. But, thankfully, Patrick was able to slide into first with a few points to spare. 

Team Canada was one step closer to gold.

While they were switching over from men's to ice dance, Tessa went for a walk to stretch after sitting so long. 

"Hey!" a voice called when Tessa was halfway down the long side of the rink. She turned.

"Hey," she said. It was Scott Moir, still in his costume, still sweaty. 

"Your skate was beautiful. I was looking forward to seeing your free," he told her. He had no trace of an accent like some of the other French skaters- Tessa vaguely remembered reading an article that said he'd moved to Canada from France when he was very young. He'd been speaking English a long time. 

"Thanks. Unfortunately-" Tessa motioned toward her ankle- "Fate was not in my favor yesterday."

Scott's forehead crinkled as he frowned at the sight of the boot on her ankle. "That's not good. Is it broken?"

"Sadly. I won't be competing the rest of these games." 

"How will you skate for the ceremony today?" he asked her. 

His concern for her was adorable- and he was probably right to be worried. She hadn't quite figured out how she would skate out yet, either.

"I'll figure it out. Congratulations on your free, though. It's one of my favorite programs to watch."

"Thank you," he said with a smile. 

Someone called his name- Vanessa- and he turned. 

"Well, I have to go to see my teammates. But I will talk to you later, Tessa."

* * *

 

"So, Scott Moir, huh?" Meagan teased Tessa when she sat back down. "I always thought that you two would be cute together. And you have similar skating styles- maybe not on the surface, but when you look closely. You two would have made a nice pair."

"I see myself doing dance over pairs, honestly. Being thrown into the air is definitely not on my bucket list," Tessa said with a laugh. "Plus, you do it so well. I wouldn't want to take away some of your glory."

They watched the dance couples take the ice for the warm-up. 

"How many points do we need to win?" Patrick asked, joining the team in their booth. 

"They can get any place and we'd still win," Eric answered. He'd clearly done the math. "The interesting competition here will be the French and the Americans- if the French win the free, then the Americans can still tie them for silver if they get second. But if the French lose the free, then the Americans will win."

"The French will probably win the free, realistically," Meagan commented. "Papadakis and Cizeron are a league of their own. But a tie would be interesting to see- I'm not sure how the officials would manage the medals. Would they do a tie breaker, or would they give them both silver?"

Gabriella and Guillaume skated third. Even though Tessa desperately wanted Kaitlyn and Andrew to win, she couldn't deny that the French had put together an amazing program. It was technically flawless and artistically sound. And the Moonlight Sonata fit them perfectly.

The Shibutanis went after the French. Their program was a drastic contrast from the lyrical style of the Moonlight Sonata, but it, too, was a perfect fit for them. Tessa was a huge fan of their music cuts and choreographic choices. 

And then came Kaitlyn and Andrew. Tessa's heart was in her throat for them as they began to skate. 

They skated cleanly- and Tessa thought the emotion from both of them was the best she'd seen. It was, altogether, a beautiful skate. She loved the program more than she had when they'd started- which meant that they'd done their jobs well.

In the end, the scores were as Tessa predicted. The French came in first, then the Americans, and then Kaitlyn and Andrew.

The Canadian booth erupted when the scores came up for Kaitlyn and Andrew- it was their personal best score. And they were gold medalists.

Eric swept Tessa off her feet. "We've done it!" he exclaimed. Patrick, Meagan, and Kaetlyn were practically burying Kaitlyn and Andrew under a group hug. Tessa joined them, too, after Eric put her down.

Gold medalists. 

The words felt so strange, and yet so right, in Tessa's mind.

* * *

 

Now, the most stressful thing in Tessa's life was how she was going to skate onto the ice for the flower ceremony. There was no way she could wear her boot onto the ice, and she wasn't about to make someone carry her. She wasn't  _that_ pathetic.

So, after much convincing, Tessa got her coach to wrap her ankle as tightly as possible. Which, admittedly, hurt. A lot. And then, she put on her skates and laced them up. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Meagan asked Tessa.

"There's really no other way I can think to do this, so, I guess it is the only idea."

"I could carry you," Eric offered. "I carry Meagan around the ice all the time. You're not that much bigger than her. And I don't have to throw you. It'll be easy."

"I'd rather not be carried onto the ice," Tessa said. "I'll be fine. Someone can hold my hand and pull me, if they really want to. I'm sure my ankle will be fine if I skate on it. It's wrapped. Nothing will move around."

"No, I'll pull you," Patrick told her instantly. "You're going to keep it in the air. I don't want you to get hurt even more."

Tessa rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. Stop worrying."

The Americans and the French went out together- evidently, they  _were_ going to tie for silver. And no bronze medals would be awarded. If they hadn't been wearing team jackets, it would have been impossible to tell who was American and who was French. They were all intermixed on the ice. Scott had a huge smile on his face as he bowed, with Nathan Chen right next to him. And it looked like the Shibutanis were sharing some kind of joke with Vanessa and Morgan. 

After they'd separated to stand on their separate podiums, the Canadian team went out onto the ice.

As promised, Patrick held Tessa's hand the entire time, gently pulling her around as she stood with her weight on one skate. The crowd cheered loudly for them as they took their bows. 

"Soak it in," Patrick told her.

Then, they skated to the podium. There was a short little walk on the carpet that Tessa wasn't a fan of. 

Everyone else from the Canadian team jumped on the podium. And before she could step onto the podium, she felt herself being lifted up by strong arms. When she turned, she came face-to-face with Scott Moir's mischievous smile. 

"Thanks," she told him. 

"No problem," he told her. "Anything for my favorite Canadian."

"I'm your favorite Canadian?" she whispered as the officials walked out with the silver medals. 

"Of course," Scott said with a wink. He turned his attention away as the French team received their silver medals. 

When the gold medal was draped around Tessa's neck, all she could really hear was Scott clapping loudly beside her. 

Once they'd received their tiger stuffed animals, Scott immediately reached over to lift Tessa off the podium and onto the ice. Patrick gave Scott a nod as he took Tessa's hand. 

"For the record, you're my favorite Frenchman, too," Tessa told him before she skated away with Patrick to lead the victory lap around the rink. 

Scott just gave her a wide grin. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> try to pretend that tessa and scott were in their early twenties or something- i feel like single skaters tend to be younger than dancers. in this, neither of them went to vancouver. also, papadakis/cizeron in this story did choose to do the team event.


	19. Fame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tessa's a famous actress at a bar. scott's just a reporter looking for a story.

Scott sighed deeply as he stepped in the door of his favorite bar. Nothing was going the way he wanted it to. 

He'd started today off on a high note- he'd just submitted an article to the chief editor. He'd spent weeks on that article, honing the finer details until it practically shone with finesse. He'd fact-checked every little quote, every sliver of information. Scott had even set up interviews with people who were pretty hard to get an appointment with.

But, after his lunch break, his boss approached him at his desk. Igor had slapped the article down in front of him, and told him it was one of the trashiest articles he'd ever read. He said that the language wasn't good enough, the format was sloppy, and, perhaps worst of all- the topic was boring.

Igor, without ceremony, shoved the article into the nearest paper shredder as he walked away. 

And he told Scott that he had twenty-four hours to find a new story. Otherwise, he'd be demoted from staff writer to junior assistant. Again. 

So, here Scott was, sitting on a bar stool, nursing a drink. He'd spent the entire afternoon digging for anything remotely interesting to report on. There was nothing. It was nearly impossible to find news Montreal. There were so many starved news organizations that everything that was even a little bit intriguing was snatched up and reported on before Scott could even bat an eye. 

Suddenly, the air around the bar shifted. Scott twisted in his seat, scanning the room. Not everyone sensed the shift- Scott was usually one of few people who could tell when the mood in a room changed. That was one thing that actually helped him in his career. Not that he had much of a career to start out with. 

Tessa Virtue had just walked in. And, for once, she was without her usual entourage. 

Every good reporter knew that where celebrities went, news would surely follow. The same could be said for Tessa Virtue- an enigmatic, puzzling, extremely private actress who somehow still managed to draw the attention of the press wherever she went. Something about her screamed Canadian royalty- Scott could never quite put his finger on what made everyone so undeniably drawn to her.

Maybe it was because she rarely ever gave interviews. She had an Instagram account, but almost never posted on that, either. And when she did, the photographs always boarded on the verge of cryptic. 

If Scott could just get one little interview, one little soundbite from her, he would be golden. 

It was going to be difficult. 

Every time a reporter tried to ask her for questions, she usually declined (politely) and disappeared within a few minutes of them approaching her. Or, her posse would fend off the reporter before they could even say more than a few words to her. 

Scott would have to play his cards very, very carefully indeed. 

He got up from his stool and ordered a coke. He quickly turned on the recording app on his phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Then, heart beating in his chest, he approached Tessa Virtue's lonely table. She was dressed casually- leggings, a leather jacket and white v-neck shirt. She wore a baseball cap with the Olympic rings on it. Scott frantically paged through what he knew about her in his mind. She'd attended the Sochi Olympics, she liked winter, she played an ice skater in a TV show with a cult following. 

He slid into the seat across from her. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

She looked taken aback, but shrugged. "Sure."

Scott pulled out a notebook from his backpack. "I just need to work on a few things for tomorrow, and there's not really table space at the bar... you looked nice enough."

Since a direct approach usually scared Tessa Virtue away, Scott figured that the subtle 'ignorant guy' way was a better method. So far, he'd gotten closer to her than most reporters managed in a lifetime.

"I'm flattered," she said dryly, sipping her drink.

"Yeah, well, I'm not usually good with the ladies. 'Nice enough' is about the best pickup line I can come up with. Not that I'm hitting on you. Definitely not."

_Why am I so nervous?_

"Well, most women like genuine compliments, and 'nice enough' sounds pretty heartfelt to me," Tessa commented. She even smiled. So she felt relaxed around him. That was good. 

After a few beats of silence, Scott spoke again.

"What're you drinking?"

Tessa looked down at her mug. "Oh, well, this is awkward... it's just hot chocolate. To be honest."

"You came to a bar to drink hot chocolate?" Scott asked, raising his eyebrows. Not what he would have expected from Tessa Virtue. "You do know that there are coffee shops around here?"

"Yeah, well," she shrugged. "Sometimes I like to shake it up."

"With hot chocolate."

"Is that judgement?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. 

Scott laughed. "Maybe a little. Hot chocolate is a kinda boring choice. Just saying. You aren't really shaking it up if you're just drinking plain old hot chocolate."

"What would  _you_ suggest, then?" 

Scott pretended to be offended. "Usually I wait until I'm dating a girl to buy her drinks."

Tessa immediately flushed. "That's not what I meant. I mean, what do you think I should buy for myself, then? If hot chocolate is so offensive to you? I don't see  _you_ drinking anything much more interesting than a coke."

"The candy cane infused vodka is pretty good," Scott said after a minute. "It's like... drinking Christmas. If you're a peppermint sort of girl. I'm assuming you are, since you're drinking hot chocolate right now."

"Alright, alright," Tessa laughed. "I'll be back, then."

She got up from the table and made her way to the bar. Scott exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Everyone always said that Tessa Virtue was a stuck-up, snobby, priveleged actress who didn't care about anyone but herself. 

The Tessa Virtue he was sitting with was nothing like that. She was sweet, funny, relaxed... maybe it was because her guard was down. Maybe it was because he wasn't treating her like a goddess. Maybe it was because, sitting here in this bar, she was just another girl.

She returned a few minutes later with two glasses in her hand. 

"One for you, one for me," she told him, sliding one of the glasses over to Scott. 

"I'd thank you, but I don't know your name," Scott said. 

She hesitated. "Tessa."

Scott smiled and stuck out his hand. "Scott."

"So, what are you working on?"

"An article. I'm a reporter," Scott answered. He sighed. "Things aren't going so well. I wrote this amazing article for my boss, but he literally put it through the paper shredder. So, I'm back at square one with nothing to report on."

"That sucks," Tessa said sympathetically. 

"What do you do for a living?"

"I... skate," she said vaguely. 

"Anything interesting happening in that world? I don't know much about it." Scott scribbled down some random notes- about the color of the table, mainly, in sloppy handwriting, just to look like he was working.

Tessa was quiet for a moment, and he thought he'd lost her attention. "Right now there's some judging scandals, I suppose. I've been looking into it a little, for my job, just to see what's going on. There's lots of talk about corruption, and a possibly rigged system. It's intriguing."

"That sounds... confusing."

She laughed. "It is, a little. I don't fully understand it myself, but it's definitely there, and it's definitely a system that could use a little refining. I'm not sure how it could be done, but it's become a big issue in my job, especially with Pyeongchang being in a few weeks."

Scott knew that she was probably referring to issues that she would address in her TV show, as her character. But she didn't know that he knew what she was hinting at. She thought he didn't know who she was, or what her real job was.

This was getting better and better. 

He now knew what the future season of her show was probably going to look like. And he now knew more than any other reporter. 

They sat in silence, Scott scribbling nonsense into his notebook, while Tessa twirled her candy cane around in her drink. 

"Do you have pets, hobbies? Or do you just... skate?" he asked finally, looking up.

"I like to decorate, I like fashion. But my job takes up a lot of time. I don't get a lot of chances to go out and have fun. It's a regret of mine for sure. And I would like a dog, but I don't think I'm home enough for it. It would be cruel."

"I can't say that I'm a fashion fan or a decorating fan, but I do love dogs. I have one myself."

"Really? What kind?"

"An Australian Shepherd. He's very cute, his name is Puck. Here, I have a picture." 

Scott quickly opened his phone and pulled up a picture of Puck. "He's going to be three in a few months."

"He's very cute. He seems like a fun dog."

Scott grinned. "He's a very fun dog."

"I'm very jealous. I'll have to meet him, sometime."

As the words came out of her mouth, she seemed to realize what she'd said, what she'd mistakenly done. She'd implied that they'd see each other again. Scott's heart jumped at the chance. 

"I mean, I'd love to meet him, but I doubt we'll see each other again," Tessa quickly amended. "I never should have-"

"No, don't worry about it. Maybe one day. When we're not just random people meeting in bar," Scott said quickly. He paused. "Plus, I save the dog-meeting for when I'm dating someone. And since we've already discussed that this isn't a ploy to draw you in with my stunning charm..."

He winked.

Tessa couldn't help but smile a little despite herself. "Well, I have to go," she said after checking her watch. "My job, you know."

"Sure."

"Good luck with that article. I hope you find something interesting to write about."

"Me, too."

"Goodbye, Scott. Thanks for the drink suggestion."

"Anytime."

With that, she was gone, out the door and into the night.

* * *

 

After she'd left, Scott rushed home to play the recording. 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he typed up a transcript of the audio he'd gotten. 

She'd opened herself up to him, thinking that he was just a nice guy in a bar. And no matter how hard Scott tried to pretend, he'd used her. He'd used her to get information.

And no matter how hard Scott tried to write the article, the word document he was working on sat blank.

He just couldn't bring himself to type the words. He couldn't betray Tessa like that, no matter how desperately he needed this article. It felt wrong, to take what she'd told him and publish it. She hadn't known she was being recorded, she didn't know that he was trying to report on her.

She'd opened herself up to him, and here he was, about to use her to get famous.

Scott closed the document, rubbing his eyes. It was late. His deadline was in a few hours. He slammed his hands down on the keyboard.

The audio he'd taken started playing. Just as Scott was about to turn it off, he caught a snippet of what Tessa had said while he was talking to her. 

_"Right now there's some judging scandals, I suppose. I've been looking into it a little, for my job, just to see what's going on. There's lots of talk about corruption, and a possibly rigged system. It's intriguing."_

Scott sat up, slowly, as Tessa's voice continued through the speakers. 

_"I don't fully understand it myself, but it's definitely there, and it's definitely a system that could use a little refining. I'm not sure how it could be done, but it's become a big issue in my job, especially with Pyeongchang being in a few weeks."_

That was it.

He reopened the word document and began to type, a smile growing on his face.

He'd gotten a story after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what special guests do you want to see in chapter 20? answer in the comments below!


	20. Bound Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> special guests this chapter!

A month. That was how long it had been since Scott had seen Tessa. And that fact was infuriating on so many levels. How could such a strong bond be broken by just one surgery?

The thought baffled Danny Moir. And it aggravated him. 

It was annoying, he thought, to see Scott moping around all the time. A far cry from his usual upbeat personality, Scott snapped at virtually every person who dared to cross his path. For a few weeks, Danny could understand. After all, a surgery in any discipline is a big deal. He knew that many partnerships were strained when there was injury.

He just never expected it to happen to Tessa and Scott.

Their bond had always seemed so otherworldly, so impossibly perfect, that Danny hadn't expected this kind of separation to happen after Tessa decided to get surgery on her legs. A partnership that had once appeared untouchable and unattainable was crumbling before Danny's eyes. 

At first, it was nice having his brother back. Now that Scott was getting serious, Danny didn't really get the chance to spend as much time with Scott as he would have liked. He understood, though, the demands of competitive ice dance.

But he also understood just how important the partnership itself was. And he probably knew more about Scott than Scott knew about himself. Danny could see just how much this separation from Tessa was hurting him. He could only imagine what it was like for her, recovering from a surgery without her best friend by her side. 

He couldn't take it much longer.

So, one day, when he knew Scott was going out with some friends, Danny grabbed his car keys and headed out the door.

* * *

First, he stopped by the grocery store, to buy a vase of flowers. While he was standing in line, he impulsively added a box of Lindt chocolates to his shopping cart. 

Then, he drove to an extremely familiar house.

But the nerves in his stomach were something new.

Since when was he ever nervous to talk to Tessa Virtue? He'd known her since she was a little pipsqueak, who would chase him around the kitchen and throw flour in his hair. This was the same little girl who gave Danny relationship advice, the same girl who baked brownies with him on weekends.

Why was he so afraid?

Nevertheless, Danny walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. He didn't give himself any time to second-guess himself.

After a few seconds, the door swung open. 

He blinked when he came face-to-face with Tessa. He'd half-expected Kate, her mom, to come to the door. But it was Tessa- dressed in black sweatpants, fuzzy moccasins, wearing a Canadian sweatshirt.

_"Danny?"_

He smiled sheepishly. "Hey, T."

She shook her head, looking like a deer-in-the-headlights. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he said, holding out the flowers and the chocolates. "I wanted to see how you were holding up. After the surgery, you know."

Tessa took them. They stood there awkwardly for a beat, then- "Where are my manners? Come in, Danny."

He stepped inside. 

They sat on opposite sides of the living room, staring at each other. Danny didn't know what to say. What could he say to her, that would make this any less cringe-worthy? How could he apologize without making excuses?

"You look great," he finally decided on saying. And she did. After Vancouver, Danny had been shocked at how skinny and pale she was. She hadn't looked healthy, or happy, after the whirlwind of the Olympics had ended. He cleared his throat. "Your... your hair looks shiny."

That comment awarded Danny with a little smirk from Tessa. "Thanks, Danny."

Silence again. 

"Um, do you want anything? Tea, coffee?"

"No, I'm good," Danny said quickly. 

Tessa shifted awkwardly in her chair, toying with the ends of her hair. 

He cleared his throat, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "You need to see Scott," he told her bluntly. 

Several emotions flitted across Tessa's face in that instant. Surprise, shock, happiness...  _anger._

"I don't  _need_ to see Scott," she said, getting up from her chair to move around the room, arranging things even though they already looked perfect. She adjusted a picture frame, then a vase.

"Maybe not," Danny replied. "But I think Scott needs to see you. He's just too chicken to say anything, and you're angry. Rightfully so. Someone has to make the first move, and it's not going to be him."

"Scott hasn't talked to me in weeks," Tessa told him, her voice cold. "Clearly he  _doesn't_ need me. He hasn't called, texted, visited..."

"I know, T, but-"

Tessa wheeled on him. "But what? We're supposed to be partners. We're supposed to take care of each other, not ignore each other. I was  _in pain,_ Danny. And I got through it alone. I don't need him. And he clearly doesn't want me. Andrew called and told me that he's already had partner tryouts, so-"

"Listen to me!" Danny shouted over her. She blinked. "Yes, he abandoned you. Yes, you went through it alone. And yeah, Scott had partner tryouts. That's all true, and I won't lie and pretend it's not. But he turned every single one of those girls down. You know why? He told me they weren't you. All he does is mope around the house, around the store, around the rink. And I'm sick and tired of him pining over you."

Tessa said nothing. 

Danny lowered his voice. "Whether or not you need Scott, he does need you. He's not complete without you. My family's not complete without you, Tessa, and if you skate with him again or not... I don't want to live my life without having you in it in some way or another. And I don't think Scott does, either. Please, just call. You only need to do it once. Then I'll get out of your hair."

"He  _left,"_ Tessa said quietly. 

"I know, T."

"And you did, too."

Danny swallowed. "I know. There's no excuse."

"He made me feel like garbage, Danny. It was like we've never skated before. It's like he forgot what we  _promised."_

"I know. You need to remind him. Because he's not going to listen to anyone else. My parents both tried. Kaitlyn and Andrew gave him the 'talk' when they visited... it was messy. I thought he was going to hit Kaitlyn. He practically bit their heads off."

Tessa turned away, massaging her temples. 

"Please, Tessa. For closure, if nothing else."

"I can't."

"For him, then."


	21. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> best friends...

"Puck! God, get back here!"

The shouts pulled Tessa out of her book. A huge Bernese Mountain Dog was running across the park.The dog's ears were flopping in the wind, tail wagging furiously, barking joyfully. The dog looked blissfully happy- happier than anyone in this park, that was for sure.

A man with dark floppy hair was running madly behind the dog- but as soon as he'd get close enough to catch the dog's leash, the dog would find some impossible reserve of energy and surge ahead.

It was a cute moment.

Until Tessa realized that, while the dog was running across the park, it was also barreling straight at her. 

In an instant, she found herself nearly suffocated by a mass of furry, hot, panting, drooling fur. The dog was frantically licking every spare inch of Tessa's face that it could find- and Tessa, despite how disgusting the dog's slobber was, couldn't help but laugh a little. 

"Puck, ya dumb dog, what are you  _doing?"_ the man shouted breathlessly, finally reaching the odd couple. He hauled on Puck's leash, wrestling the dog off Tessa. 

Finally free, Tessa wiped her face off with her sleeve.

"I am so, so sorry," the man said. "I swear, I was holding the leash so tightly. He's usually not like this, he's usually super mellow. I honestly don't know what got into him. He doesn't like strangers..."

"Apparently he does," Tessa said wryly. Puck innocently tilted his head to the side, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. 

After an awkward beat of silence, the guy stuck out his hand. 

"Um, Scott."

"Tessa," she answered with a smile, shaking his hand. "I think that's the closest I've been to a man in a while, to be honest."

Scott looked down at his dog, who was still panting innocently. "Yeah, he kinda some steps with you, didn't you, Puck? You player."

"I think he's cute."

Puck wagged his tail and barked. Tessa laughed.

"You've got an admirer," Scott told Tessa. "He seems to really like you."

"Can I pet him?" 

"I think you've already moved past the 'can I pet your dog' stage with Puck," Scott commented. "But yeah, go ahead."

Tessa bent down and ruffled Puck's ears. The dog contentedly leaned into her touch, eyes narrowing to relaxed slits. "You're such a good dog, Puck. You're so cute, you know that?"

"He's a big baby, that's what he is."

"How long have you had him?"

"Two years. Do you have dogs?"

Tessa shook her head as she started running her hands through the soft, thick fur on Puck's back. "No, I don't have dogs. I've always wanted one, though. I think they're great animals."

"They are. I think you should get one, if you want one. It's one of the best things I've ever done. Dogs are just... they're so loyal. You can count on them for anything. And they're fun."

"I'm thinking about it."

Scott nodded. "Do it. You won't regret it."

"Alright," Tessa said, giving Scott a smile as Puck rolled over on his belly. She checked her watch. "Crap. Well, as much as I loved meeting both of you handsome boys, I have to go."

"Here that, Puck? She thinks we're handsome."

Tessa blushed, realizing what had slipped out of her mouth. She collected her (now drool-covered) philosophy textbook and bag. "Well, it was nice meeting the both of you."

She started walking away.

"Hey, wait!" 

Scott jogged to catch up to her. He cleared his throat. "Um, I don't usually do this with women... but, would you maybe want to see each other again?"

Tessa raised her eyebrows. "Like a date?"

"I think Puck would be sad if he never saw you again."

Puck whimpered a little, looking up at Tessa with dark chocolate eyes. "That's a dirty move, using your dog to get a date."

"Did it work?"

Tessa laughed. "Yeah, it worked."

"Great. Um, here's my number. I'll call you tonight. We'll set up a time that you can see Puck. And me."

"Alright. Bye, Scott. Bye, Puck."

"Say bye, Tessa," Scott told his dog as Tessa started to walk away again. 

Puck barked in response.


	22. Witchcraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tessa and scott have been best friends since they were little. what will happen when they attend hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.... but in different houses?

Scott couldn't help but gape up at the ceiling that loomed high above him as he walked into the Great Hall for the first time. Danny and Charlie had always told him about how awesome the Great Hall looked- but now he believed them. Shooting stars cut across the midnight blue expanse of sky, brightening the room before fading away into darkness once again.

He looked over at his best friend, Tessa. Her eyes were gazed fixed intently on the stool that sat before the first-years, that bore a ragged, worn hat. She was frowning, her forehead wrinkled in concentration.

"Come on, T, lighten up," Scott whispered, nudging her as the deputy headmistress, Professor McGonagall, stepped up onto the stage, a scroll in her hand.

"First years, when I call your name, you will sit down upon the stool. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses. When your house has been announced, take your place among your peers at the corresponding table."

She began to read off names.

Scott could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He scanned the crowd, trying to take his mind off his impending fate. He caught sight of his brother, Charlie, sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Charlie gave Scott a wide grin and the thumbs up.

He only remembered a few of his fellow first years' names. Meryl Davis, a dark haired, petite girl, went to Ravenclaw. She sat beside Charlie, who gave her a high-five so forcefully that the tiny girl almost fell over. Luca Lanotte, a friendly looking boy, went to Hufflepuff. 

And then...

"Scott Moir."

He swallowed, and began to make his way toward the stool. His feet felt like lead as he climbed the two short steps before reaching the sorting stool. The last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes was Tessa's anxious face staring back up at him.

For a brief second, there was only darkness. And then-

_Ah, another Moir. Another troublemaker, eh?_

_'I'm not a troublemaker,'_ Scott thought. 

_We'll see about that. Now, about your house... you seem to have a great deal of wit. You like to joke. You care deeply about those you love... you're loyal. And you want to be great at everything you do. You don't mind being the center of attention. You do everything you can to make your family proud. You have a lot of feelings, for such a young man. This will be interesting... you could fit almost anywhere. What do you think, Mr. Moir?_

_'It doesn't matter what I think. I know that whatever you say will be the right thing to do.'_

_But this decision involves you._

_'I think whatever house you pick will work out.'_

_I see. But what do you want?_

An image of Scott standing in front of the Great Hall, wearing red Quidditch robes, flashed across his mind.

_Ah. A Gryffindor?_

_'Well, maybe.'_

_Hmmm... but I sense something else. Something beneath the surface. Something you haven't realized yourself. And you did say that whatever I pick will work out..._

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Scott blinked as the hat was pulled off his head and the hall broke out into applause. Tessa beamed at Scott. He shakily climbed down from the stool, managing to give Tessa a little wink before he sat down beside the first year he'd noticed earlier, Luca. 

"Congratulations. Now we have a Moir, too. It's nice to meet you, Scott. I'm Andrew. Andrew Poje," a boy said, sticking out his hand. "Don't worry, the nerves will wear off once you've had a bit to eat."

But he couldn't relax- not until Tessa had been sorted. He held his breath as the number of first years dwindled down until Tessa was the only one standing in front of the sorting stool. She looked even tinier from this distance. But she didn't seem scared at all. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and she walked up to the stool determinedly.

Scott stuck his tongue out at her just as the hat was lowered onto her head. He saw her laugh a little, and then her face turned serious once more.

It seemed like the hall sat in silence for ages, when in reality, it was only a few minutes. Then the hat opened its brim wide, and declared:

"SLYTHERIN!"

_What?_

* * *

 

A few days of school had passed, and Scott had yet to get the opportunity to talk to Tessa. He would see her occasionally in the halls, but she usually had to dart off to her next class before they really had the chance to discuss the unfortunate situation they'd been put in.

Surely it was a mistake. They couldn't be in separate houses. They were so similar. They'd thought it out before arriving at Hogwarts- they'd be Gryffindors together. It was the perfect plan. Everyone always told them how brave they were, to be so talented at Quidditch from a young age. And now, they wouldn't even be able to play on the same team second year.

Instead, they'd be rivals.

It was still hard to believe. 

It wasn't that Scott hated Hufflepuff. He loved it- more than he thought he would. Everyone in Hufflepuff was patient and considerate. While there were still hints of the classic first-year teasing, it was in a good way. The Hufflepuffs were far more interesting than Scott expected. They were witty and sarcastic, and never missed the opportunity to throw jibes at each other.

Finally, Scott caught the chance to talk to Tessa at dinner. He slid into the empty seat next to her, ignoring the frowns from the other Slytherin students. 

"Listen, Tessa, can we talk?"

Tessa looked around. Most of the Slytherins had gone back to their meals, but some were still throwing curious looks in their direction. It wasn't often that Hufflepuffs sat at the Slytherin table. There weren't exactly assigned tables- at least, not all the time- but it was still rare. 

"Tonight, in the library, at seven," Tessa said finally. "We'll talk then, okay?"

That was Scott's cue to leave. 

It seemed like an eternity until seven came, but finally, Tessa arrived, her hair a little frizzy, still clutching a stack of books. She slid into the seat opposite Scott, a little breathless.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious? The sorting was a mistake. We should be Gryffindors, both of us. Neither of us belong," Scott told her. He looked around the library, then lowered his voice a little. "We're supposed to be in the same house. The hat got it all wrong."

Tessa raised her eyebrows. "Did it?"

"We've gotta go to Dumbledore and-" Scott registered what she'd said. "What do you mean, did it mess up? It did! We belong in Gryffindor! Look at you! You're nothing like a Slytherin. You're pretty, and smart, and... nice."

"You're saying a Slytherin can't be nice?" Tessa's voice had an edge to it. Scott immediately tried to backtrack.

"No, that's not what I meant..."

"It was what you meant, don't even try to pretend. For your information, I like being a Slytherin. They're actually very nice. Some of the older students are teaching me sign language, to talk to the mermaids."

Scott scoffed. "Since when are Slytherins ever nice? They're the worst house there is."

"Just because you're not happy in your house doesn't mean that I'm not happy in mine. The sorting hat doesn't make mistakes, Scott. You're a Hufflepuff, and I'm a Slytherin. That's just how it is. I've accepted it, and you should, too," Tessa said coldly.

Heat rose to Scott's face. He clenched his hands together underneath the table. 

"That doesn't mean we can't still be friends. It's just... it's not going to be what we thought," her voice softened. "You're still my best friend. Right? Even though I'm a Slytherin?"

His heart broke a little, and he cleared his throat. "Of course I'm still your friend, T."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know some of you may disagree with scott and tessa's houses... but i thought about this for a long time. scott is such a loyal guy; he is perfect in hufflepuff. and tessa is so ambitious and driven, that i thought she would be perfectly suited for slytherin. 
> 
> some stuff about the slytherins has been taken from tumblr headcanons fyi. also, i'm not hating on slytherin :) i love them, actually. i wish i were a slytherin.


End file.
